The Host
by CryptCreeperX
Summary: A troubled youth, Cloud leaves home to join an elite gang of soldiers. But flipping burgers at Chocobo Chow and living in the Slums during unsafe times wasn't in the plan. Neither were rejection letters from Shinra Inc. An encounter with an enigmatic silver-haired Host presents a new obstacle. Guided to a world of sensual pleasure, Cloud bonds with a man who revels in dark passions
1. The Love Letter

**Full Synopsis:** _A quiet but troubled youth, Cloud Strife has always let his aggressive nature get the best of him. He leaves his tainted past behind in the hopes of joining an elite gang of soldiers for glory and redemption. But flipping burgers at Chocobo Chow, enduring a colorful-yet-perverted boss, and living in the Slums during unsafe times wasn't in the plan. Neither were repeated rejection letters from Shinra Inc. As Midgar City becomes overshadowed by a string of unexplained gruesome deaths, an intense encounter with an enigmatic silver-haired Host presents Cloud a new obstacle. _

_Welcome to LOVELESS: an underground club of beautiful but bizarre men. Guided into their world of sensual pleasure, Cloud finds himself at the mercy of a Host who revels in dark passions. And obsession._

**Warnings:** _violence, gore, cannibalism, language, sex (homo/hetero), suicide, death, drug usage, alcohol, teenage angst, psychological mind-trips_

**Category: **_Alternate Universe, Canon AU, Horror/Suspense, Sephiroth x Cloud (main pairing)_

**Author's Note: **_An altered universe that plays on many of FF7 Compilation's components, mixing this and that with the occasional 'what if' question tossed in the air. Timelines, events, and circumstances have been changed to accommodate the plot. Be forewarned, this story is not meant for the easily offended or sensitive. Please don't get on this joy ride unless you are *this* tall and can handle the bumps._

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**~PROLOGUE: The Love Letter~**  
((0))

Cloud Strife  
332nd Street  
Sector 7, Midgar

July 12, X002

Dear Mr. Cloud Strife,

Please be advised that your application for enlistment in Shinra Electric Power Company's Public Safety Division has been examined and reviewed. Only ten percent of all applicants are admitted each year. You were among the 2,146 candidates who sought enlistment into our program this past summer. Unfortunately, your application did not receive favorable consideration from our Committee by reason of insufficient preliminary scores in the comprehensive exam and failure to meet Fit-for-Duty physical requirements. More specific impediments from your results included: underweight, rapid pulse, and kinetosis. Due to the high intense nature of our program, both medical and physical conditions need to be considered for all applicants as they may hinder performance, increase risk to crew, property, and public safety.

The records of this office show that you've applied to our program in the years X000, X001, and the current X002. In accordance to Article 329, the cut-off point for reapplication is four, at which point any future attempts for admission will no longer be accepted by this division.

Enclosed is a list of specific expectations and recommended material to review should you endeavor to reapply before the cut-off point has been reached. If you have any questions over your application review, the review process, or the list of requirements please contact our office. All other inquiries can be found on our website at the designated FAQ section. We appreciate your continued interest in our program, Mr. Strife, and wish you the best of luck.

With regards,  
Lazard Deusericus  
Union Executive  
Public Safety Division


	2. Chocobo Chow

**Author's Note:** _Be forewarned, raunchiness and foul language. Naughty humor and sex-related moments can be blamed on my fixation on sex-fused 80s films. Customer woes can be related to my job in retail. If this chapter had an opening soundtrack, I imagine it would be playing Kung Fury's 'True Survivor' with David Hasselhoff. Mwuahaha. Chocobo Chow Happy Meals for eeeeveryone!_

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**The Host**

CHAPTER 1: Chocobo Chow

The promise the wolf had brought was written in its ice-blue eyes. And that promise was _despair_. During a great blizzard, a massive wolf unlike any other had appeared at the outskirts of a sleepy town. The Fenrir. It had harbored no fear. No sense of right and wrong. Its notions of compassion and forgiveness were limited to the natural laws of the beast.

On this particular night, the massive animal drew low and closer to its small prey; some blond-haired child with similar blue eyes and an aggressive behavior that matched its own. That child… He had barely held onto his rusty broadsword. Yet, he'd managed to stare directly into the predator's eyes and not wavered. The open wilderness was their audience. Only in this place did one primal rule exist: to kill or be killed.

Their silhouettes had circled around each other in a slow waltz while the blizzard raged around them. Inches of snow were crushed by bloodied paws. From dark gray skies, flakes of ice had fallen. It'd been cold that winter night with visibility near to none. Both participants had waited for the other to make the first move. Hunter against hunter. With strings of saliva over its wet fangs, there was a cloud of cold air from the wolf's parted mouth. A steady growl gradually had developed from the pits of its stomach until the mouth stretched wide and a single, earth-shattering howl echoed across the land. It was a battle cry. Tightening his grip over the sword's handle, the child had briefly shut his eyes to prepare for the inevitable. Blood was spilt that winter night.

_Despair_. It was a promise the child would never forget. He'd endure it the rest of his life, including today.

"_I didn't order the Chocobo Spicy Sandwich, idiot! I ordered the Number One! The Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow! How can you get that wrong? Did you even graduate from high school? Or are you one of those damn country boys from some backwater, washed-up town that keep coming here and polluting our fine city with your hillbilly IQ?_"

A loud-mouthed mother of five in the mini-van yelled a slur of obscenities outside the drive-thru window. Strings of spit flew. Thin lips shaped into a snarl. She tossed a paper bag out of her car and spilled all of its edible contents over the driveway. Five freckle-faced children sat at the backseat, too occupied with their PHS games and movies to pay attention. Their electronic devices beeped, clicked, and banged nonstop throughout the whole commotion.

It was a Friday night, that special time of the week where positive and negative energies violently clashed and spewed throughout the streets of Midgar City. The entire block of Twenty-First Street composed of brightly lit, rainbow-colored fast-food restaurants, coffee shops, bookstores, and PHS service providers. They stacked on top of each other in various-sized cubicle sets, piling as high as the eye could see. Elevators and ridiculously tall spiraled, gated staircases allowed access to the extreme higher levels. Several of these cubicle _skyscrapers_ dominated Twenty-First Street.

The neighborhood was a giant cluster-fuck of commercialism where Gil was revered as the holy messiah. At the lower levels, steam evaporated from rusted metal gates and pipes. Cars honked through slicked roads. Billboard signs and words flashed with neon pinks, yellows, and blues. Couples strolled, some wearing disposable pleated face masks to prevent airborne disease. Finely dressed pretty boys stalked the streets with their PHS and passed out business cards. It had all the making of a promising Friday.

A cheery upbeat melody drifted in the air. Its lively whistles came from an animatronic in the form of a massive, yellow Chocobo with crossed-eyes. The iconic mascot stood at the ground level of Twenty-First Street. Proudly waving a red flag, every ten seconds the robot automatically warked and promised all customers a tasty meal for a great price. It stood next to a colorfully designed cubicle with an attached glassed playground. Wark-wark-wark. Chocobo Chow: Midgar City's finest fast food restaurant. Satisfaction guaranteed.

The mother's beady brown eyes glared up at a blond-haired teenager who stood at the opposite side of the drive-thru window. He claimed a noble height of five-foot-seven with a lean frame. Clear-blue, intense eyes were dimmed by years of fatigue and mild irritation. On his Chocobo Chow badge read the name, _Strife_. A fitting name. One of the mother's children lowered a backseat window and popped his head out. Dressed as a cowboy, the child aimed his water pistol straight at the teenager's goofy looking hat. He squeezed the trigger and sprayed a thick line of water at it. The child giggled.

Cloud Strife didn't say a word. He closed his window and effectively silenced the sounds of the woman still yelling at him and the brat now laughing. Sound control: it was beautiful. Already a Clean-Up Unit had been dispatched and appeared outside. The tiny robot beeped loudly while it tended to the mess on the driveway. On the side of its metal face was a diamond-shaped logo: Shinra Electric Power Company.

According to the digital clock on the wall close by, it was past eight o' clock. Already, Cloud hated his evening shift. He was already tired from a strenuous afternoon class. And now this crap.

Chocobo Chow was a popular food chain, one of the few with a drive-thru in Midgar. But it brought out a lot of difficult customers. Most of them arrived with an attitude; all self-entitled assholes who acted like Gods while they rode the ass of a boy earning seven-fifteen an hour. Cloud wasn't perfect. Mistakes happened. But if he forgot to add in that extra packet of sauce or plastic utensils in their happy meal, heaven help him, he was quickly reminded of his failure as a human being.

Annoyed, Cloud rechecked the order he had filed on the computer for the rotten woman outside. Then he glanced at the holographic interface menu that projected close to him. His fingers waved and clicked a few options. Granted, he wasn't the sharpest man in the planet. But he certainly wasn't deaf or illiterate. The woman ordered the Number One. The Number One was the Chocobo Spiced Sandwich. The Number Ten was the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow. Apparently, she got the two numbers mixed up. But that wasn't her problem; it was his. Always his.

Outside, the giant Chocobo animatronic warked out loud, as if to remind Cloud of the company's policies and his incompetence. The customer was always right. The customer came first. The customer's needs surpassed the wants of his entire existence. Cloud could've confirmed the order earlier on and saved them both the time and hassle. But the damn impatient woman had cut him off and sped up to his window before he got the chance.

"I hate humanity…" Cloud muttered and refilled the order in his computer. His fingers practically pounded on each button.

"I hear ya," a coworker agreed a few feet away. Chewing on a fry, a chubby teenager stood at the prep station in front of a large glass case. Inside a large glass case, robotic arms assembled ten burgers. With a half-cocked grin, the boy added, "But humanity did give us instant ramen and cybersex. So there is hope for our species after all, yeah?"

Cloud saw the toothy grin on the young man's face widen. Wedge, a slacker who would likely never graduate from high school or get laid, enjoyed only two things in life: food and porn. His collection of hardcore Wutai smut was almost as large and impressive as his round belly. Wedge's close buddy and partner-in-crime was Biggs, another coworker at Chocobo Chow. The two were inseparable. Had Biggs not been assigned to delivery runs tonight, he'd be working the window and exchanging dirty jokes with Wedge right now.

On occasion Cloud hung out with the two misfits. They were okay guys who wanted to conquer the world and score with an indefinite number of women. Cloud often visited the arcades with them at the Slums. Together, the trio overdosed themselves with soda pops and impossible dreams.

Wedge briefly glanced at the woman outside Cloud's window. Despite the sound proof glass, she was still on a rampage. He had also overheard her say the Number One. However, the self-proclaimed _rolly-polly_ already knew it was pointless to argue with customers or prove Cloud's innocence. Wedge punched in a few buttons on a console. In front of him, the robotic appendages inside the glassed chamber began to assemble the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow.

"I'm gonna take a piss," Cloud notified and removed his headset. "Watch the window for me."

Wedge showed him a thumbs-up gesture.

Cloud headed to the men's restrooms, needing a small break and chance to relieve himself. He passed by the restaurant's seating area. Chocobo Chow's customers consisted of the usual clientele. There were the crying babies who carelessly tossed their food in the air, uncontrollable brats who ran amuck in the playground, parents nagging and yelling, club hoppers getting ready for a hard night of partying, and college-bound students on a limited food budget. It was never a dull moment with these customers.

Briefly, Cloud shut his eyes. The whole environment was an eyesore. Chocobo Chow's bright interior lighting gave him a mild headache, likewise the wacky color schemes and patterns on the walls. And everywhere he turned were images and sounds of Chocobos. He'd long since developed an urge to strangle them in his sleep. Glassed walls at the back of the restaurant revealed an outdoor children's playpen. It came complete with Chocobo swings, Chocobo riders, Chocobo monkey bars, and a Chocobo slide. Cloud slipped past two arguing parents and arrived at the men's restroom; his sanity barely intact.

"_Welcome, Chocobo_," an automated high-pitched voice greeted from a ceiling speaker. "_Wark-Wark!_"

An annoying child-like tune played from the restroom's speakers. Cloud wasn't surprised to find the area a complete mess. On the sink's mirrors someone had scribbled tasteless words with ketchup and mustard. Meanwhile, two Clean-Up Units whirled back and forth on their roller wheels, mopping overflowed water from a malfunctioned toilet. Their cautionary tell-tale lights blinked nonstop and informed customers about the wet floors. Another Clean-Up robot tended to a mountain of discarded paper towels that hadn't been properly placed inside the dispenser.

Cloud muttered a curse word under his breath. He quickly looked away from a urinal next to him. Not flushed, it still contained a murky piss-yellow liquid inside its bowl. Cloud already dreaded tonight's clean-up. His brows shifted evenly when he heard soft noises coming from the last restroom stall.

Behind the closed door there was heavy breathing followed by the loud popping sounds of an eager, wet mouth. Cloud suspected what was going on and approached the restroom stall. Curiosity prompted him to peek inside through a small hinge opening. He could see a kneeled man in front of another male who stood with his back against a wall. The head between his legs bobbed up and down, faster and faster.

"_Yummy, yummy,_" the automated voice advertised from above, "_You've never tasted a fully loaded Chocobo hotdog like ours. Order yours today! It's finger-lickin' good. Wark-wark!_"

The loud sucking noises from the other side continued until Cloud knocked on the door. "Hey. _Lovebirds._ Get a hotel room. There're kids here."

The sucking sounds stopped. A few seconds later, the door unlatched and two men coated with perspiration and halfway-zipped pants appeared. Cloud took a step back to give them room. He tried not to focus on the first man that came out first, especially when the corner of his mouth leaked with milky white drops. The young man quickly wiped it off with the back of his hand and exited the restroom. His companion followed shortly after, sheepishly smiling at the Chocobo Chow employee.

Cloud suddenly felt awkward. He didn't say a word nor moved from his spot. Instinctively licking his chapped lips, Cloud set the odd reaction aside and went to the last urinal against a wall. He unzipped his fly, took proper aim with both hands, and conducted his original business.

"_Remember to wash your hands before you leave_," continued the voice above, "_A clean Chocobo is a happy Chocobo! Wark-wark!_"

More annoying suggestions and advertisements emerged from the speakers above while Cloud urinated. Some of the words were repeated in other languages for the bilingual population. Cloud learned it all by heart. For three years it was the same crap. He knew how to say 'please dispose of trash' and 'never talk with your mouth full' in Wutai. It was probably one of the few perks of working full-time in a shitty place that paid only minimum wage with no healthcare benefits. When Cloud finished his leak he washed his hands with foamy hand soap that smelled of raspberry.

Looking up at the sink's mirror, Cloud surveyed his colorful yet bizarre image. Water-blue eyes. Wild blonde hair. A teen trapped beneath layers of absurd clothing and misery. The Chocobo Chow uniform was certainly the stuff of nightmares, containing a stark yellow buttoned shirt with blood-red trousers. On the sleeve of Cloud's top was a sewn image of the restaurant's mascot: a yellow fat bird that triumphantly waved a red flag. To Cloud, it always looked like a Chocobo humping on a stick. The fact his last name had been stenciled below such a crude image made him clench his teeth. The hat itself blossomed with yellow feathers, each poking out from the top like a Mohawk. Two strange, wing-like shapes sprang out from the sides while a horrendous, plushie-sewn head of a Chocobo appeared in front of the cap's crown. Cloud sniffed his uniform once and made a face. Despite the fact he hand washed his uniform three times yesterday, used extra soap, and sprayed it with a fresh fragrance, it still smelled of grease.

Disgusting. Each time Cloud slipped on his uniform he felt like he was trading his soul in the process.

Cloud shut off the faucet and dried his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time. Pinching both of his cheeks, the snarky teenager imitated the happy high-pitched voice from the speakers: "_Hello, welcome to Chocobo Chow! I'm Cloud Strife. How can I royally fuck up your order today?_"

Cloud tucked in his shirt under iron-pressed pants and made sure he looked presentable to the public. Considering his atrocious attire, though, being _presentable_ was hardly possible. Cloud washed off the nasty words on the mirrors with a paper towel and manually flushed the urinal that reeked of sour piss. While the Clean-Up Units continued to mop, he pulled up a digital interface on the stall's door. Overriding a few commands, the words 'Out-Of-Commissioned' successfully appeared in red on the door. The stall electronically locked itself from future use. He'd deal with the clogged toilet later.

Satisfied, Cloud finally exited the restroom to return to his station. He crossed the seating area and arrived at the other side when, abruptly, a customer near the cash registers made a scene.

"_This meat is undercooked! Unbelievable! Look at this! It's raw!_"

Perfect. Another customer; another problem. Turning to the direction, Cloud saw a disgruntled man point a finger at a female coworker.

Few people addressed the girl by her formal name, Elena. She preferred _Ele'_. For the most part, the teenaged punk girl kept to herself. With black eyeliner and cherry black lipstick, Ele' stood at the registers with arms crossed. Sure, there were the mandatory dress code protocols in Chocobo Chow but she ignored every one of them and indulged in her creative compromises. Half of her head was shaved off and revealed a stylized tattoo. The other section showcased locks of natural blond dyed to a vibrant blue. Several buttons from her uniform's top were left undone to reveal a bright pink provocative blouse with chains of crosses around her neck. Ele' certainly wasn't the damsel-in-distress type.

From what Cloud recalled, she used to work at a rough bar in the Slums, one that catered to the Turks. Ele's father also served as an officer in Midgar's army and now taught at the Academy. Perhaps it was her confident attitude that allowed the boss to overlook her many offenses. That and the long line of male customers she continuously attracted to their lowly establishment in Twenty-First Street.

Working as tonight's cashier, Ele' displayed an unreadable look on her face while chewing on a stick of gum. The army brat didn't flinch when the customer's tone sounded harsh. Nor did she verbally respond back to his accusations until she surveyed the rest of his _oh-so-terrible_ meal herself. The basket of fries was empty; same for the large-sized beverage. Only a few crumbs of a dessert that accompanied the meal remained. The Chocobo burger itself was nearly gone; a single bite left. Ele' returned her attentions back to the man. Her chestnut-brown eyes didn't blink nor look away.

"The meat is just _terrible_," the man griped again and shoved his tray of food toward her. He opened the remains of the burger to show her its insides. "I'm not paying for this worthless crap. I want a refund."

From his station, Cloud narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Wonderful. It was another cheapskate asshole. They had a lot of them these days. Rather than pay for their meal like everyone else they preferred to exploit their restaurant's policies for a freebie. Their prices were already low, but for these people nothing could ever be cheaper than free food.

Cloud took a step forward, halfway tempted to give this customer a piece of his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he received a write-up or potential assault charges for punching a customer. Ele' glanced at his direction, however, and silently shook her head. Cloud stepped back.

"Well?" the man up front demanded. He ignored the nasty, intimidating look on Cloud's face. "Are you going to _fix_ this and give me back my Gil?"

"So let me get this straight, sir," Ele' spoke at last. Slowly. Precisely. While there was a long line of people still in front it didn't bother her. "You want a refund for a meal you practically finished?"

"Is that a problem, Missy? This meal was not to my satisfaction." The customer pointed at a projecting four-dimensional image of a Chocobo. The words 'satisfaction guaranteed' spun above its head. The disgruntled man grabbed the small remains of his burger and slapped it down on the counter, as if to further prove his point. "I want my damn refund. _Now._"

Ele' merely blinked. She stayed quiet and grabbed the plastic fork from his tray. Her aim was perfect. Stabbing the fork directly at the miniscule space between his fingers and the small burger bite, she dragged the discarded burger toward her. Ele' replied back with a calm smile, "That's no problem at all, sir. I'll personally see that the issue is resolved."

Ele's reassurance sounded more like a serious death threat. The man yelped and pulled his hand away. A hair closer and she would've stabbed his fingers. Quickly, he made for the exit but screamed, "I-I'm suing this place!"

Cloud bit back a smirk while Wedge downright chuckled. Ele' was a strange girl but always fun to watch. She didn't take crap from anyone. Perhaps her rebellious nature was a response to her rigid upbringing and family's high expectations. Or maybe it was that typical angst every teenager experienced while growing up and finding a questionable future ahead. Whatever it was, Ele' popped like a firecracker.

When Ele' briefly turned and flashed Cloud a smile, he felt his cheeks grow warm. That particular smile summoned a random, crude memory from the past. It was the same smile Ele' had given him during a hand-job. The sexual act didn't mean anything serious between them, especially when she already had a boyfriend. It was just something two hot-blooded teenagers did in the heat of the moment. Like smoking pot or eating high-calorie, fatty food.

To this day, Cloud couldn't figure out what appealed to him most: the hand-job itself or the complete randomness of it. Ele's casual, carefree look at life was something he admired and wanted to have for himself. So far his life consisted of fulfilling orders in Chocobo Chow, squeezing in time for General Ed classes, and personal training at the rooftop of his rat-hole apartment, despite complaints from the asshole landlord.

Within seconds, Ele' looked away and resumed her task as cash registrar. It prompted Cloud to return to his own job at the window. He realized the Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chow order was completed at the prep station. Wrapped in flimsy paper, Wedge had the order in his hand with a strange grin on his face. Cloud cocked a brow at him. He hoped that wasn't the foul woman's Supreme. It was ten minutes past due since he went to take a leak and left Wedge to deal with it. Cloud glanced out the window and felt his blood turn cold. The woman was still parked outside. Her eyes were wild with rage.

"Wedge…" Cloud started as he slipped on his headset. "I really hope you gave Minivan-Mom her Supreme Chow already. Please tell me she's not out there because she's _still_ waiting for it. She'll run me over with her van for sure."

The big boy grinned. "Hah, actually no, I didn't."

"What the hell, Wedge? Why didn't you? I left you in charge of the window."

"You know I still have trouble with the register. I couldn't ring up the other people after her. Besides, you weren't gone that long. I figured I could wait for you while I made the new orders coming in."

Cloud stared at Wedge. His lips pulled inward to form a thin line. He didn't know whether to yell or kill him. Cloud half-suspected Wedge simply didn't want to get chewed out by the nasty woman outside and therefore, waited for his return. He was a good guy and always meant well. But he was also an absentminded chicken-wuss who rarely functioned by himself without assistance. Even when Wedge worked at Chocobo Chow longer than Cloud, he still couldn't run the registers.

A quick glance at an overhead monitor and Cloud moaned. He covered his eyes with a palm. There was a long line of cars waiting after the minivan. A few of them honked their horns. Cloud knew he was going to be on the receiving end of an ass-whooping tonight due to the long delays.

"Damn it, Wedge," he addressed through gritted teeth, "Now we got a long line of people also waiting." Cloud held out his hand. "Give me her order right now before we get sued or I get assassinated."

Wedge held onto the Supreme Chow. "Ah, relax, Cloud. Like I said, I already prepped the other orders. I wrote them down. You just gotta type them up in the computer and scan their tat codes. Easy-peazy. So lighten up. Besides. I wanted you to be here to see the _special_ condiment I'm gonna leave that bitch for giving you shit earlier." Wedge raised a finger to his nose, threatening to dig out something special. "It'll add to the flavor, I think."

Cloud quickly shook his head. It was a bad idea, a _terrible_ idea. A thousand worse-case scenarios popped in his mind. By the time he opened his mouth to express any of them to Wedge, the blond teenager caught sight of a tall, overly muscular man at the corner of his eye. Cloud abruptly froze in place. Shit.

The shape of the man's head looked like a square, especially when he donned a ridiculous flattop haircut and thick sideburns. An awkward, bushy moustache decorated his mouth. Drooping down, it had a life of its own. The man's arms were massive and bulky while his chest was broad and puffed out.

A bear. A big-ass bear. That's what Cloud thought when he met Chocobo Chow's manager during his interview three years ago. An avid bodybuilder who visited the gym in the Slums, the man wore a well-ironed business suit that appeared two sizes too small for his large frame. The top buttons of his cotton shirt were left undone with coarse curls of pectoral hair popping out.

Cloud made a face when the manager turned toward Wedge's direction. No doubt, the manager heard about the line of impatient customers waiting at the drive-thru and wanted an update on the situation. The gesture proved pointless though. Cloud already knew his manager put up an excellent front when it came to problems that arose but rarely stuck around to actually _fix_ them.

Wedge remained clueless of the guy's presence, meanwhile. The big boy's back turned to the boss, Cloud's coworker inched his finger closer up his nose and snickered loudly. Cloud was ready to warn him but the manager now stood right behind Wedge. He placed two giant hands on the kid's shoulders.

"Bubby!" the manager announced, "Now, now. Mr. Mukki just knoooows you're not about to do anything naughty with that burger. _Riiiiiight?_"

Startled, Wedge nearly leapt in the air. He did an about-face. His eyes shot wide opened. "Er, ah. Mr. Mukki! Um. Uh! S-so nice to s-see you this fine evening."

"Isn't it?" Mr. Mukki grinned back with shiny-white teeth. His heavily tanned face practically glowed. Still smiling, he pinched Wedge's chubby cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. "My, my, my… The stars are out. The babies are smiling. The lovers are kissing. Mr. Mukki is very pleased with tonight."

"Er. Y-yea, sir. Awesome."

"In fact, bubby, the only thing that could ruin Mr. Mukki's fine evening is if Mukki found one of his bubbies doing something naughty."

"R-right, Mr. Mukki."

"You're not doing anything naughty. Right, bubby?"

"Of c-course not, sir."

"Because only fun naughty makes Mr. Mukki happy. Not bad naughty. No one wants to upset Mr. Mukki with bad naughty things. Riiiight?"

"Absolutely not, sir." Wedge took a deep swallow. His eyes widened in horror when he soon found himself held tightly in Mr. Mukki's arms. The bear hug nearly sucked the life out of him.

"That's my good boy. Very good boy. Mr. Mukki is pleased."

At his station, Cloud stood in silence with mouth slightly parted. He forgot to breathe and merely watched Wedge struggle and gasp for air while locked in place by Mr. Mukki's strong arms.

Why Mr. Mukki referred to himself in the third person, called everyone _bubby_, and enjoyed giving bear hugs was beyond Cloud's understanding. The man was a loon. Currently, a gloss of sweat had formed on the boss's forehead while his dorky moustache stretched out. He had a habit of sweating a lot. It was why the restaurant's temperature was often set to frigid cold despite customer complaints. It was likely from the steroids he secretly injected.

About the only redeeming quality Mr. Mukki had going for him was his fun-loving, open-minded, very forgiving nature. By all accounts, they all should've been fired. Hardly any of them could consistently keep true to Chocobo Chow's rules. But Mr. Mukki kept his gang of misfits. They were his bubbies. He ignored the constant customer complaints and gave his bubbies an infinite amount of chances to get their act straight. Of all the places Cloud had applied to for a job, Mr. Mukki was the only one who took him in, even without a high school degree or job experience.

Slowly, Cloud looked away from the strange scene between Wedge and Mr. Mukki. He readjusted his Chocobo hat to cover as much of his face as possible and hoped the manager wouldn't notice him.

"Ah, bubby!" Mr. Mukki suddenly called out. "Mr. Mukki seeeeeees yoooooou!"

Fat chance. No sooner did Cloud look away did the manager quickly abandon Wedge. It was now Cloud's turn to receive Mr. Mukki's infamous bear hug. Pulled in close to the man's hairy chest, Cloud coughed. The manager's strong cologne made it difficult to breathe. The boy struggled to put a bit of distance between them but Mr. Mukki merely laughed and grasped him even harder. Cloud felt like a ragged doll.

"Don't think Mr. Mukki has forgotten about _you_, bubby," the manager exclaimed and pulled the blond-haired teen closer. "Ooooh, you're so soft. So tender, bubby! Mr. Mukki can just… _eat you_."

Cloud's cheeks flushed red. Everyone in the restaurant knew how much of a weirdo Chocobo Chow's manager could be. Mr. Mukki sat in his office all day to supposedly complete payroll, work on upcoming schedules, and conduct other ho-hum duties. In truth, he was usually found lifting weights or doing bench presses in his office. Anything but his job. The man was more invested in his passion for bodybuilding than actually managing a restaurant. It left his staff the burden of the work load.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, right, bubby?" Mr. Mukki eagerly asked.

Cloud bit into his lower lip, feeling reluctant to answer but obligated to anyway. "Yes, sir."

"Oooh! How splendid! Seventeen! A big man, bubby!" The manager hummed happily to himself. "To be seventeen again… To be reckless and have tons of fun. Mr. Mukki was quite the sport in his heyday. Mr. Mukki discovered a lot about himself that year. A _lot_…" The big guy paused. A mischievous smile formed on his lips, especially when he looked at Cloud with the look of a hungry man. The moment passed before he eventually asked, "You doing anything for your birthday, bubby?"

From his peripheral vision, Cloud could see Wedge shake his head again and again and again. Cloud already knew about the birthday get-together his coworkers planned for tomorrow. However, it was important the matter remain undisclosed from the manager. Mr. Mukki had a terrible habit of tagging along whenever the crew wanted to do something together. He didn't care if he was twice their age and brought along his gym buddies who were just as weird as him, he'd crash the party anyway and pretend he was one of them. It was embarrassing.

"I'm, uh, gonna watch a movie at home and go to bed," Cloud lied.

"Going to bed _alone?_" Mr. Mukki asked with a terrifying grin on his face. He immediately laughed it off when Cloud frowned. "Ah, bubby. That sounds… so lonely." Mr. Mukki hugged Cloud even tighter. In a lower voice, he asked, "Want some company, bubby? Mr. Mukki can treat you to something nice."

Cloud's throat went dry. "Er, um. No, sir. Thanks but, I'll be fine."

"You suuuuure, bubby? Mr. Mukki can show you a _good_ birthday time."

Behind him, Wedge turned pale. Cloud's own skin crawled with an unpleasant shiver. He always knew Mr. Mukki was a creeper. Any time the manager had to call someone into his office for a stupid errand it was always him. And each time Cloud arrived he found Mr. Mukki in a compromising position, usually in the middle of a _what-the-hell_ exercise activity; all full of sweat with only his tight-fitting briefs on. Coincidence? Cloud doubted it, especially when Mr. Mukki often asked him to join his _Young Bubby_ club. Whatever the hell that was.

While the thought of pressing sexual harassment charges against the manager did cross Cloud's mind, he was too embarrassed to follow up with it. He didn't want the world to know he was being sexually pursued by six-foot hairy bear that wore boxers in the office and talked in the third person. So long as Mr. Mukki gave him hours and a weekly pay check, Cloud was willing to put up with his overly eccentric and perverted manager. He needed this job.

Cloud shifted his body to the side in another effort to break free. For a moment, his thigh pressed against something hard. He knew it wasn't a pencil, not when Mr. Mukki suddenly giggled. Quickly, Cloud readjusted his position to push away from it. Desperate to get out of his bulky arms, he leaned to one side and informed, "Um, sir… We got a line of customers waiting. And I've got orders to fill."

The manager blinked once. Then twice. As if snapping out of his daze at last, he nodded several times. "Ah, yes, bubby! That's right, the customers! They come first. No more playing around. No more dilly-dally. Get to work, get to work. Make Mr. Mukki proud. Mr. Mukki wants to see smiles on every customer's face."

At last, he pulled away from Cloud. Both teenaged boys exchanged a look of relief. Wedge scurried to the other side of a counter. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Mr. Mukki as possible. Meanwhile, Cloud wanted a shower. Ten of them. He could still smell Mr. Mukki's cheap cologne on him. As their flamboyant manager took his first steps out of their area, the man temporarily stopped.

"Bubbies, be on your good behavior. Remember: Mr. Mukki is alwaaaaaays watching you." With a finger, the manager pointed at his left eye. Then he pointed at something in the ceiling.

Both teenagers saw a camera staring directly down at them. Smiling, Mr. Mukki waved goodbye and walked away. Cloud felt the color in his face drain. Despite Mr. Mukki's physical absence the majority of the time, his presence was still felt everywhere. He had installed a countless number of cameras throughout the establishment, some reportedly hidden. All video feedback was sent directly to his office. It served as a means of security and to keep an eye on the staff. However, Cloud glanced at the camera with a weary expression on his face. He had his suspicions.

"Baaah…" Wedge suddenly spat out loud. His eyes narrowed when he looked at the window.

Cloud turned to see what caught his attention. Outside, the annoying mother-of-five started slapping on the glass with the palm of her hand. She was still waiting for her order that was now fifteen minutes late. The sound-proof glass blocked out the words she spewed from her wretched mouth. Wedge quickly gave Cloud the Number Ten to shoo her away. The other teen inhaled sharply and prepared himself. In silence, he finally opened the window and held out her order.

"Fucking Goddamn hick! You made me wait over an hour on purpose! You little shit!" The woman snatched the grease-stained paper-bag from Cloud's hand. "This is the worst customer service I have ever gotten! I am going to put in a big complaint! You will lose everything! _Everything_, you hear!"

"Of course, ma'am," Cloud responded in a flat tone. "You'll find all customer service-related information at the end of your receipt. Visit our website as well to download a complimentary coupon. Have a nice evening. Wark-wark-wark."

"Smart-ass!" The van's engine roared. Immediately, the woman drove off; tires squealed all the way.

More cars honked; a few customers popped their heads out of the window and yelled. There were at least twelve of them in the drive-thru. Above the racket, the annoying Chocobo animatronic issued its deals for more customers passing by. At the main eating area a kid vomited and cried non-stop.

Cloud hung his head down. Dropping off the edge of twelve-story-high building sounded really tempting right now. Wedge approached his coworker from behind and patted him on the shoulder.

"Meh. Look at it this way, Cloud, in a thousand years from now the world will likely end and no one will give a shit about Super-Duper Chilly Supreme Chocobo Chows."

Cloud returned to his station and stared at the computer in front of him. Orders after orders. He could see his entire life flash before his eyes. It consisted of Chocobos and customer discounts. He sighed. "Wedge. Remind me why I'm doing this again."

"To pay your way until you join the army, bang super-hot babes, save the world from catastrophe, and never have to deal with self-entitled bitches like Minivan-Mom ever again." Wedge stole a few fries from someone's order and stuffed them into his large mouth. Then he headed back to the prep area to work on the new requests that came into the kitchen.

Cloud took a deep breath.

His sour mood still didn't improve by the time the next customer arrived at his window, but he forced a smile on his face anyway and went through his regular routine. 'Would you like fries with that?' This line… It had become his life's motto thus far. At times Cloud hated himself for it, especially when he gazed at all the crying babies, loud brats, and annoying parents.

Admittedly, he was envious of all these people. No matter their background or age, they were legitimate residents of Midgar City. They all shared a decent chance of a good life here in a thriving metropolis. As for him? He was a homeschooled, country boy with not even a high school degree to his name. He worked at Chocobo Chow and resided below the Plate to make ends meet. Only a stubborn thought, actually an intangible dream, kept him going.

With a handheld device, Cloud scanned the barcode tattoo on a female customer's wrist to digitally collect her Gil and handed over the take-out bag. As the customer left, Cloud paused before closing his window. His blue eyes stared into the far distance.

Here was Midgar City: the crowning achievement of peaked human civilization. Its proud architects gloriously designed an industrial dreamscape composed of high-end fashion, progressive concepts, budding promises, and modern constructed perfection. Metal surfaces shined against the flares of neon lights. Skyscrapers stretched up for miles, many threatening to cut into the heavens. Large holographic billboards of attractive people and hotspots flashed and blinked from nearly every rooftop. A montage of power-juiced, innovatively designed cars followed the paths constructed for them.

In every direction, Cloud spotted a large Mako reactor. There were eight of them, each posted at the edge of the city. Impressive structures, they were. Massive. Sturdy. They supplied Midgar City her precious power and emitted bursts of raw green energy into the air. The way the Mako playfully danced, streamed, and shimmered above in the sky, it reminded Cloud of shooting stars. The reactors and city's designs, though, weren't the only highlights that held interest for him.

Standing tall and proud at the very center of Midgar City was Shinra's Headquarters: home of the strongest soldiers. A black chopper circled the heavily guarded complex while giant spotlights swayed back and forth from the ground.

It never failed. Each time Cloud reached the metallic surface of the Plate and saw this particular building, he felt inspired and renewed. This was why he came; why he endured. Many men traveled across the world to reach this location. Many shared his dream. Only a few actually succeeded and set foot inside Shinra Electric Power Company's complex. Behind those concrete walls and glass windows resided a future; _his_ future.

A massive black truck suddenly pulled up to Cloud's window, blocking the view of the building. Heavy metal music blared from the truck's speakers. A stoner with green spiked hair nodded to Cloud and waited for his order. The Chocobo Chow employee composed himself, remembering where he was and his current duties. He scanned the man's wrist and handed out the customer his bag. When Cloud saw another customer already at the menu window through a monitor, he greeted her and set himself on auto-pilot mode.

"Welcome to Chocobo Chow. Wark. Wark. Wark. How can I serve you today? Would you like to hear about our specials?" A long pause. "Sure. And would you like fries with that?"


	3. The Smiling Corpse

**Author's Note:**_ Glimpses into Cloud's private life. He's a complex guy and fun to write. He's shy/insecure, but also stubborn/determined. To me, those tiny hints of aggressive masculinity make him sexy and better equipped to engage with a guy like Sephiroth._

* * *

CHAPTER 2: The Smiling Corpse

It was another dead body. The corpse was discovered at the Entertainment District of Midgar this time, hanging upside-down from the glass ceiling of an avant-garde art museum; stark naked and soaked in its own blood and bodily fluids. Most of the skin left on it had rotten off, revealing meaty and juicy flesh. The face was barely recognizable as well. It was nothing more than a mix-mash of muscles and tissue. Traces of dried ejaculation from the victim had been splattered across the walls and floor along with dots of blood. The corpse represented a genuine masterpiece painted with human remains. Greenish cobweb-like veins had spread throughout the abdominal area, all originating from the pelvic area. The penis itself, the very essence and symbol of _Man_… it was gone. Melted off at the root somehow, whatever remained of it threatened to detach itself the longer the body dangled in the air.

The corpse had hung there for a good eight hours until the museum's curator confirmed it was not a part of any installation piece to a potential art buyer. Now Shinra's infantrymen worked to get the bloody thing down without infringing on any evidence related to cause of death. The museum's surveillance feed, meanwhile, had already been transferred to the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department.

So far, this made it the nineteenth dead body found in Midgar with no explanation concerning probable cause. For many years the city had been gripped by the ghastly sight of festered corpses discovered across the Plate's Sectors. Most of them were well-off citizens with respectable jobs, some even high-profiled Shinra officials. There were no other connections established among the victims though. Nor did Shinra's team of investigators, the Turks, find a timeline between the deaths. Yet, the corpses all shared the same grisly details: liquefied insides, a lethal dose of Mako in the blood stream, and an unknown strand of DNA. While forensics had yet to identify the strand as either man or animal, they discovered the victims had all roughly expired within six hours of whatever they had come into contact with.

Already, the online community buzzed. Half appalled. Half fascinated. Speculations of a viral outbreak remained the topic of serious discussion. Environmentalists roared and claimed this was the Planet's way of settling old scores, especially with Shinra's ongoing exploits of Mako energy. Another group believed the corpses were somehow connected to the random monster sightings that also terrorized the city. And then there was President Shinra. He accounted the deaths as the result of a bioweapon created by extreme Wutai fractions.

The Company had been at war with Wutai for many years. Shin-Ra News already reported Wutai rebels within the Midgar population. According to them, the rebels had staged multiple attacks in the city. Shin-Ra News connected them to the monster sightings. Indeed, these were unsafe times. With the support of the Midgar's residents, President Shinra now prepared to send a battalion to the land of the Leviathan to settle this mess once and for all.

Already, various websites possessed leaked photos of today's fresh corpse. The pictures circulated like wildfire across forums and between PHS users. The face of the dead man was disturbing enough. A blackish liquid dripped from every possible orifice available. The corners of his mouth. Eyes. Ears. Nostrils. Anus. No doubt the hemorrhaging led to a slow and painful death. Even so, with bulged eyes rolled back and curled thin lips and black painted teeth, there was an opened half-crooked grin.

The man had died in complete contentment.

Sitting barefooted on the dusty wooden floor of his living space, Cloud kept his laptop propped between his crossed legs. _Death Strikes Midgar Again_, read the headline of Shin-Ra News. There were brief mentions in the online article of the previous corpses found in previous years, along with victims of the monster sightings. Death had certainly gripped the city by the balls.

A large woven blanket covered Cloud's hunched form as he continued to read. Propped against his leg was a small brown-and-white spotted dog. The beagle tossed back and forth in her sleep, softly whimpering. Cloud gently scratched behind her ear while the walls around them rattled loudly in the wake of a train. It passed over their apartment building; a usual occurrence in this neighborhood. Behind him, meanwhile, the walls banged nonstop. His annoying apartment neighbors again… They were either fighting or having sex.

Within the cold darkness of his living space, Cloud kept his gaze on the corpse's image. He didn't blink. Didn't breathe. One hand held a half-eaten, chunky-chocolate gob. While it hovered close to his lips Cloud didn't take a bite of it. Loose crumbs from the cookie dropped as his clear blue eyes stayed fixated on the dark bloodstain patterns across the dead body's chest. He couldn't help but shift his eyes to the horrific sight of the pelvic area where the bloody flesh somehow gathered together and bled out. Some morbid curiosity within the teenager wondered if the man was hard before he bit the dust. It would explain the eerie satisfied smile on the corpse's face.

Midgar City… a hellish haven for the beautiful, the twisted, and the deprived.

"_I've about had it with that damn cat, Cloud,_" a female voice interrupted Cloud's thoughts. "_My garden is ruined. If I wasn't of sound mind I'd bury my fingers into its large green eyes, skin it alive, and feed it to the wolves that prowl the woods right now. By the way, how are the chunky-chocolate gobs?_"

Cloud's back stiffened. He nearly dropped his cookie at the woman's choice of words. He shifted his attention to another active window on his screen. It was a live video-cam chatroom. There, a woman in her early forties with wild blond hair tied back and similar clear blue eyes sipped tea from a chipped glass. The body of a small dead animal, some white-furred hare, rested on the table. A smile decorated the woman's face.

Mrs. Strife. His mother. She always had a wicked way of making sure her boy was paying attention to her, even if it did shock the hell out of him.

"_How are the cookies?_" Mrs. Strife repeated. "_Good?_"

"Huh?" Cloud could barely hear her voice above the sound of the train passing by.

"_The cookies, silly boy._"

"Oh." Cloud reactively glanced at the chocolate gob in his hand. Near him was a small opened package with at least ten more. Each of them had the number _seventeen_ written with icing. As with most conversations, Cloud's response was brief and to the point: "They're great."

"_You're not looking at porn right now, are you?_"

"What?"

_"Is that why you keep spacing out like that?_"

Cloud's cheeks flared with heat. He narrowed his eyes at his mother. Onscreen, Mrs. Strife laughed at her own joke. She had caught on to her boy's bouts of inattentiveness throughout their conversation. Cloud bit back a verbal reply. Instead, he rolled his eyes and minimized the corpse's image on his screen, taking away the temptation to read the rest of article.

"_I'm glad you enjoy the chocolate gobs_," Mrs. Strife mentioned later, "_I know it's not much. I wish I could've sent you a cake, but I doubt it would've arrived intact_."

"Hm. Cookies last longer anyway." Cloud stared at the dead rabbit on Mrs. Strife's table. Perfect white fur contrasted sharply with dots of red. The opened wound on its chest was clean and precise; its neck broken. He knew it had been a quick, merciful death. Curious, he asked, "Is that tonight's dinner?"

"_Yep_. _I hunted it this morning. I'm making your favorite stew in honor of today._"

Cloud nodded. Admittedly, he missed the tender, meaty flavor of rabbit.

"_There was another present I wanted to send you, something you're old enough to have now_," Mrs. Strife started again. "_Unfortunately, the shipping costs would've been an arm and a leg._"

"It's fine. The cookies are great. Really."

"_I'll give it to you when you visit._" Mrs. Strife smiled again. "_Hard to believe… You're seventeen year's old today, Cloud. The Gods be good. Just yesterday I was changing your diapers and singing you lullabies._"

Cloud took another bite of his birthday present. _Crunch._

It was August 11th today, a big milestone for him. However, Cloud didn't feel any different. Seventeen felt a lot like sixteen. And last year's sixteen felt a lot like fifteen. Nothing changed. He was still this clueless, five-foot-seven punk with wild blond hair. Stubborn and persistent by nature, he preferred to do everything by himself, which included cutting his hair no matter how much of a choppy mess he made.

Possessing a slender shaped body and a face that contained too many soft curves for his liking, Cloud hated how he'd taken after his mother. He adopted too many of her feminine traits. Back home he was an object of humiliation because of it. Cloud hoped this year he'd develop a manlier physique. Six-pack abs would be nice. He'd grow a beard if only his facial hair could stay even and not itch so damn much.

"_I wish you were here,_" Mrs. Strife suddenly confessed with a sigh. When her eyes stayed glued to her son, she added in a firm disapproving voice, "_In fact, you _should_ be here. Tsk tsk._"

"I know…" Cloud apologized, "I didn't have the Gil to pay for a ticket to visit."

"_Maybe next time you'll save in advance, silly boy,_" Mrs. Strife suggested, halfway joking but also halfway serious. She paused when a cat-like _meow_ emerged off screen. Looking at something outside of Cloud's view, Mrs. Strife saw something out there and frowned. "_I swear, the Lockhart's family cat is going to be the end of me, son. My poor garden…_"

"You never did like cats, Mom," Cloud responded dryly. He glanced up at a naked light bulb on his ceiling. Its light kept flickering on and off again until the train finally passed. The beagle sleeping by his side sensed the train was gone too and gradually woke up. Ms. Tinker pawed at Cloud's leg.

"_They're unpredictable, very dangerous creatures with little regard to anyone outside themselves,_" Mrs. Strife claimed. "_Don't ever own a cat. They can't be trusted. Especially around gardens._"

Cloud dangled a new cookie in front of Ms. Tinker and teased her with it, barely interested in the current talk with his mother. For the past hour their online conversation revolved around irrelevant topics like this. Yes, he ate regularly – _that was a lie_. Yes, he took out the trash – _he forgot this morning_. No, he didn't have a girlfriend – _that was true_. No, he hadn't gotten in serious trouble – _he punched a customer last week_. And maybe he wasn't a virgin – _he lost it years ago to some random girl who tasted like bubble gum and cigarettes_. Many times Cloud forced a small smile on his face. Now their talk focused on the neighbor's stupid cat. He quickly got bored.

"It's a cat," Cloud replied in between cookie bites. _Crunch. _He ate half of the treat but gave the rest to Ms. Tinker. "Cats do stupid things. You've handled wolves, bears, and other predators before. You can't handle an ordinary household cat? You're weird, Mom."

"_Cloud Strife…_" his mother declared in an authoritative voice, "_Are you trying to get smart with your mother?_"

"Nope. I wouldn't dream of it." _Crunch-crunch_. That reply came off a bit too sarcastic for his own damn good and earned him a scolding. Cloud issued an apology shortly after. Then he listened to the rest of his mother's adventurous day while rubbing Ms. Tinker's tummy.

It was a late Saturday afternoon. He'd already attended his General Ed afternoon class and showered for an evening shift at Chocobo Chow. With the air chilly outside, there came the promise of a strong winter.

As usual, Cloud kept in touch with his mother, especially on this special day. It was a part of their weekend routine and agreement. Ever since he left Nibelheim for the big city three years ago he gave her updates on his newfound freedom. The laptop he got on loan from a pawnshop served as a means of visual communication. He knew how much his mother needed to see his face.

Cloud was reluctant to talk about the current happenings in Midgar to his mother. Aside from the corpses, there were also monster sightings throughout the city and Slums. General Heidegger of the Public Safety Division advised all citizens to immediately report any suspicious persons or activities to the IMs. Cloud knew these details would worry his mother. He'd never hear the end of it.

Mrs. Strife sought out any excuse to drag her boy back home. She warned him about the naughty whores. The violent gangs. The vicious muggers. Temptation everywhere. Granted, it was all true. There was a lot of that here. But Cloud was a big boy. He could take care of himself. He'd done so for many years. His time in the Slums wasn't going to last forever anyway.

The banging next door grew louder. Ms. Tinker started to growl at the muffled moans and bed squeaks coming from the wall behind them. Cloud softly sighed to himself and huddled deeper inside his blanket.

"Yea, Mom, I'm doing all right," he replied when she later asked him a direct question. Cloud wiped off tiny chocolate chunks from the corners of his mouth with a finger. When he realized his mother was still waiting on specific details, he added with sigh, "I've just been busy with a lot of things."

"_Busy with a lot of things?_" his mother repeated and cocked a brow. She tapped the cup in her hand with a loose finger and frowned. "_You're being a good boy over there, right, Cloud? No funny business? I've warned you about those city girls. They aren't good girls. Stay away from them._"

Cloud bit the insides of his mouth. He should've known his mother would spin his words around and make this into a _girl issue_. She constantly worried over him screwing every girl on the block and getting them all pregnant. As if that was possible.

Yeah, he went on dates and had a few flings on occasion. The girls all thought he was cute; a country boy with rural charms. They found his wild platinum-blond hair both unusual and appealing. Even his social awkwardness and inability to form coherent words during his states of nervousness didn't faze them. In their eyes, it made him even more endearing and handsome. But he was definitely no Don Cloud. The country boy from Nibelheim had better luck wooing his beagle than he did a human being. Cloud was clueless in the art of _suave_. Of course, he didn't really care for it. He had bigger priorities to tend to.

"It's not the girls, Mom," Cloud retorted, "I'm busy preparing for the try-outs coming up."

"_The try-outs…_" Mrs. Strife suddenly realized. She blinked several times. Then her shoulders sagged and she asked, "…_So you're trying to enlist in the army again?_"

"Mm-hm."

A short pause. "_When are the try-outs happening? Will you be ready for them?_"

"Spring time. Early May. And yea… I think I'm ready. I mean, I will be." Cloud licked his dried lips, a bit disappointed by his lack of personal conviction. "I gotta pack on some pounds. But I've been taking classes for the comprehensive exam and am feeling stronger with my personal training. I, uh, got a good feeling about this one. I think I'll get accepted this time."

Glancing at a promotional Shinra army poster on a wall, Cloud felt the muscles of his stomach tighten. A bit of anxiety kicked in. Admittedly, his mother wasn't the only one with doubts.

He'd been rejected three times. The coming spring served as his last chance for enlistment. Cloud hadn't anticipated this level of failure. In fact, he had laid out his future when he first set foot in Midgar City. In his head, it was a done deal. He was going to enter Shinra's army and earn a spot in an elite class of soldiers. The crème de la crème. He'd become a strong, disciplined, and well-collected warrior just like them. Protecting the people and hunting unworldly beasts that stalked the land would be his thing. Glory and fame hand-in-hand. It was fucking perfect.

But then came the letters of rejection. Not once. Not twice. But three times. The humiliation and disgrace Cloud felt with each rotten love letter nearly got the best of him. On various occasions he considered returning to Nibelheim. Pride and stubbornness wouldn't let him though. After the first rejection, he took up residence in the Slums and found a job instead; determined to enlist in Shinra's great army the next chance he got.

Cloud knew he needed to make this year count. The long winter ahead offered him time to improve on the physical exam and study for the written portion. This was only a minor roadblock, Cloud told himself again and again. By Spring time he was going to make his dream a reality. He had to. The Company guaranteed its soldiers free housing, financial security, and food. It met all of his basic necessities. He was going to be better than all the stupid, immature losers back at home. He was going to make something of himself, damn it.

"_But why…?_" Mrs. Strife broke up her son's wayward wonderings. A lump appeared visible in her throat. She had trouble accepting her son's absolution. _"Why Shinra?_"

"What's to understand, Mom? I'm joining the army. That's all there is to it." Cloud slowly pushed the blanket off his shoulders. Standing up, he needed to stretch his legs.

"_If it was a stable job you wanted, they had one at the hotel here_. _So did the convenient store._"

"Not interested," was all Cloud said.

His jaw danced a bit. He wandered over to a make-shift dummy at the center of his living room. Ms. Tinker followed close behind, her tiny feet tapping against the hard wooden floor.

The dummy was nothing more than an upraised, crossed stick attached to a wooden base, covered with pillows tied together. Cloud took a practice sword with a four-foot-long blade from a wall. In his grip now, he stretched out his arm and flexed his hand. It was a common ritual of his. He needed his body to get accustomed to the weight of steel. The old wooden floor creaked under his weight when he took on an attack stance. He immediately lunged forward and stabbed the dummy a few times, already feeling some of the tension inside him release. Each stab penetrated the exact same mark. Ms. Tinker watched a few pillow feathers glide in the air and pawed at them.

"_I don't understand why it had to be the army or why you had to move miles away from home, let alone, to Midgar_," Mrs. Strife persisted and shook her head. "_That city is full of temptations that can corrupt the heart of any precious boy._"

Cloud stabbed the dummy even harder. It wobbled back and forth violently. Under his breath, he whispered, "I guess you wouldn't understand…"

"_What? Did you say something? Cloud?_"

"…Nothing, Mom."

Mrs. Strife's hands clasped together. A low sigh dragged out of her lips. "_I really hope you're not risking your life for Tifa, son._"

"Huh?" At this, Cloud slowly turned away from the dummy to look back at his mother onscreen. He rested the flat side of the blade on his shoulder.

"_I know the two of you were pretty close…_" Mrs. Strife pointed out. "_I know you've always wanted to impress her. I'm not blind._"

Cloud stayed quiet.

"_I saw Tifa earlier in the week_," Mrs. Strife later revealed. "_She was with that silly man in the red cape. Zangan, you remember, right?_ _I think she's training under him since I saw them at the forest while I gathered wood. Tifa looked well. She approached me and wanted to know how you were doing. In fact, she wants to write to you but I couldn't remember your address at the time._"

Cloud lowered his gaze. It took him a moment to reply. When he spoke, he avoided eye contact with his mother. "You didn't tell Tifa I'm living in the Slums or where I work, Mom…" A pause. "…Did you?"

"_I told her you were living in Midgar, still working on getting into the army. Why?_"

Cloud's jaw reset itself. "Don't tell her where I live. In fact, don't say anything. If she asks about an address, just tell her I can't accept any letters right now."

His mother slowly nodded in compliance. However, her brows furrowed as she leaned closer to the screen. The camera briefly blurred until it adjusted to her features. "_Cloud… Are you all right? What's wrong, baby?_"

"…Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

"_You sound… off._"

Cloud kept quiet after that. He refused to speak the words that ravaged his mind. In truth, though… he loathed his current surroundings. He was embarrassed by them and didn't want Tifa to know about his situation. Not the rejection letters. And certainly not his living conditions. Each time he set foot in this apartment he wanted to burn everything. No amount of soap and filtered water could ever make him feel clean. He felt dirty by simply breathing the air.

And yet this was his home. _El Palacio,_ at the 332nd Street of Sector 7.

The discarded bowls of ready-made Wutai noodles sat unclean and stacked in his kitchen sink. Roaches scurried up the walls. At the corner of the small space was a worn-out mattress: his bedroom. Because Cloud couldn't afford any furniture it rested flat on the floor. A few yellowish stains from the previous owner remained visible. No matter how many times Cloud hand washed the mattress it wasn't enough. Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the apartment was a small bathroom with cracked walls. There was the standard iron-cast tub with plastic curtain and the toilet that constantly made an irritating garbled sound late at night. As for the kitchen area next to the bathroom, it consisted only of a stove, mini-fridge, and a sink that constantly leaked. There was no table or counter space. Cloud dined on the ground and usually took a spot by the vintage-looking space heater for warmth. The cracks on the walls and ceiling did little to keep out the frigid cold air though; likewise, the tiny window nearby. That window offered the only view to the outside world. Even so, it showed just the bricked wall of the adjacent apartment building next door. Pathetic.

Cloud bit on his lower lip. He suffered the same fate as the other country boys who left the rural life for the big bad city. Housing in the Slums offered little for a young man like him. But it was all he could afford. Again and again, Cloud reminded himself this was only _temporary_.

"There's nothing wrong, Mom," Cloud reassured her again. At this point, he abandoned the dummy and flung the practice sword directly dead center into its chest. Ms. Tinker stayed behind and played with more feathers. Returning to his previous spot by the laptop, Cloud sat cross-legged on the floor again. "I'm fine. I just want to be left alone until the try-outs are done. Gotta keep focus."

Mrs. Strife slowly nodded back. Cloud hoped this was enough to end this conversation. The topic of Tifa had always been a sensitive subject. Any discussion of her left him feeling raw. There was too much history between them, too many complicated feelings he had toward the girl back home. On some days it was adoration and longing. On others it was guilt and resentment. Cloud loved her. And he hated her.

That solemn expression from before returned on his mother's face the longer the silence between them dragged on. Her fingers wrapped themselves around her cup of tea again. "_Cloud. If you want to talk about anything I'm here. You know? I'll always be your mother, no matter how many birthdays pass._"

He looked at her, a bit caught off guard by her words.

"_I wish you would come home, son…_"

"I'm already home," Cloud quietly corrected her.

"_But that's not home. Home is here. That place is dangerous._"

Cloud produced a low throaty sound that resembled something of a grunt. This was quickly becoming a broken record. Granted, she was right, especially with all the deaths that surfaced across Midgar. On days like this he considered moving elsewhere, maybe to a quieter place. Determination, a lack of proper finances, and a fascination with an aggressive environment, though, kept him in Midgar City. As for coming home… that was out of the question. Nibelheim harbored too many painful memories.

"_Are you sure, you're okay?_" his mother persisted, "_Look, if this has anything to do with Tifa…_"

Cloud growled now. "Mom, this has nothing to do with her. _Okay?_ Leave it alone. Please?"

It was definitely time to sign off now. A quick glance at the laptop's clock and Cloud realized he needed to get ready for work. He moved the onscreen cursor to close a few windows still active. The corpse's image popped though when he accidentally clicked on the maximize button.

"_Cloud?_" Mrs. Strife leaned closer to the screen again. She didn't blink. "_Are you sure you're okay?_"

Another train passed over his building. The paper-thin walls of Cloud's apartment violently shook. Ms. Tinker whined. Cloud said nothing and merely looked at his mother onscreen. Then he glanced at the image of the dead man. It continued smiling back at him, as if in mockery.

"_Ever since the accident in Mt. Nibel_…" Mrs. Strife noted very quietly. "_Things have… been different. Things have changed. _You_ have changed._"

Cloud felt nauseous just looking at corpse next to his mother. And yet, he wondered how a man who had died so horrifically could somehow find happiness at the very end. It was as if the dead man found the answer he sought his whole life. He'd take that revelation to the grave. It disappointed Cloud somehow. Finding happiness in this world was hard. According to the dead man smiling back to him, it also came at a great price.

"_Is that the real reason why you left, Cloud?_" his mother resumed. "_Is that why you refuse to come back home? Because of what happened in Mt. Nibel...?_"

Again, Cloud glanced at the time on the lower right-hand corner of his laptop. He was desperate to leave this conversation now. "Listen, Mom, I gotta go. I'm pulling an evening shift and my coworkers want to take me out for my birthday tonight. I'll talk to you next weekend."

Mrs. Strife never got a chance to reply. Her son signed off from their chatroom and immediately snapped the laptop shut. Cloud slid the portable device across the floor, pushing it as far away from him as possible. He didn't want to be near it right now.

Cloud already knew what his mother really wanted to say. Through her wandering blue eyes, Mrs. Strife wanted to know what happened to her precious little boy; the boy she knew before he became an emotionally distressed youth with bloody knuckles, an attitude problem, and a bad reputation in the village. With legs still crossed, the weary teenager sat within the darkness of his tiny apartment. He couldn't give his mother the answers right now. Someday he would. Maybe. But definitely not today.

Cloud intently listened to the sound of the train pass by. Ms. Tinker rose on her hind legs and barked. A cockroach, meanwhile, crawled next to Cloud. It minded its own business, exploring the space between his feet at first. Its long antennas waved back and forth. Searching. It changed direction and seemed attracted to the box of cookies nearby. Its wings fluttered with a _ra-ta-ta_ sound. It looked ready to take flight. Cloud made a face. Its very existence bothered him. With a clenched fist, he smashed the critter in one blow. When he opened his hand, the side of the palm felt warm and sticky. Cloud stared at the cockroach's smothered remains.

"Relax, I just put you out of your misery," the boy reassured. He tried to scoff but failed miserably and settled for a long exhale instead. Afterward, he thought about the corpse in the news and quietly asked the dead roach on his hand, "…Are you smiling too?"

The walls in his apartment stopped trembling. The train had passed. Getting to his feet, Cloud approached the sink and washed his hands. He felt dirty. Disgusted. Three times he washed his hands until he finally turned off the faucet. He checked the clock posted on the wall nearby. According to the time it was twenty minutes to five in the afternoon. Great. He was going to be late for his train.

With the online conversation now behind him, Cloud quickly removed his current attire and padded barefooted to his bed where a brightly colored uniform waited for him. His initial thought was to burn it, but he suppressed that desire long enough to slip on his socks and pants. That familiar greased-stained smell reached his nostrils. Cloud's lips twisted into a snarl but he protested in silence. His arms slid inside their respective sockets of his bright yellow shirt. As he buttoned it, he paused. A long scar was visible just below his navel point. Cloud stared at it.

The scar spanned across the lower section of his stomach. Forty-seven stitches, Cloud grimly recalled. All of them had been painful. A finger traced over its thin, beveled line while a mental image of falling snow and fierce blue eyes flashed in his mind. Cloud heard a high-pitched howl and suddenly froze. Then he realized the howl came from Ms. Tinker.

The dog whined and yelped. Her tiny paws loudly scraped against a nearby window, begging to be let out. Cloud exhaled. Relieved. His fingers worked the rest of the buttons while he opened the window halfway for Ms. Tinker.

"Go on, you bitch," Cloud teased her.

Ms. Tinker squeezed through the opening and landed on an emergency staircase. Quickly, she scurried down for a day of fun and adventure. Ms. Tinker would find her way back home, Cloud thought, she always did.

The beagle was a stray that liked to tinker with the garbage bags outside the apartment. She followed him everywhere. It must've been the terrible Chocobo Chow smell that initially attracted her to him. Cloud scoffed at the idea. He placed a bowl of water next to the window for Ms. Tinker's return.

Grabbing his coat, Cloud exited through the door. He fetched his apartment keys from a back pocket while he stood in a long narrow hallway with cheap red carpet. Faded, piss-yellow floral wallpaper with random tears and spray-painted words decorated the walls. A few posters and advertisements hung throughout the hallway, including a _LOVELESS_ trailer poster. The dimly lit corridor itself emitted a funny smell. At least there was power. Unlike many places in the Slums, El Palacio came equipped with a workable generator. It produced enough electricity to keep the small hallways and rooms lit. There was even a freight elevator, large enough to fit at least ten people.

The next door neighbors continued to moan while a shouting match had erupted at the other end of the hallway. Glass broke. Cloud ignored the distractions and struggled with his lock. The damn metal plates weren't lined correctly. _Again_. It was due to the building's horrible foundation, which constantly shifted and caused all the doorframes to misalign. As Cloud cursed and battled with his door, he heard the freight elevator at the middle the hallway rise. He hoped it wasn't Mr. Butch; the apartment's landlord.

That prick had threatened to increase his rent due to Ms. Tinker. The dog was _susceptible to property damage_, Mr. Butch once claimed. In this shithole? Riiiiight. Hardly anyone liked the guy, including his own wife. Cloud had other reasons to keep his distance from him. Mr. Butch gave off a funny vibe.

Cloud placed a hand on the doorknob and grunted as he slightly lifted up the whole door with it. The plates briefly aligned. Quickly inserting his key, he rotated the inner mechanism in place with a satisfying _click_ sound. Bingo. Cloud did an about-face and jetted for the stairs. Unfortunately, the longwinded staircase wrapped around the path of the elevator. Looking directly down the elevator's vertical channel, Cloud discovered a lanky man with a couple strands of hair on his shiny head. The forty-something male stood alone with crossed arms while the elevator ascended.

Mr. Butch.

Just his luck. Cloud glowered at the sight of him. There was no way around this guy. Unless he retreated back to his room and used the emergency stairs, he had no choice but to go down and briefly cross paths with Mr. Butch. Cloud held his breath. Then he dashed down the stairs, ignoring the fact he resided on the fifth floor and had a long ways down.

"Cloud!" Mr. Butch suddenly yelled when he noticed a familiar blond-haired boy pass by the elevator's gated walls. "I need to talk to you right now."

Breathless, Cloud continued running down the steps. He acted oblivious. "Oh hiya, Mr. Butch. Good evening. Lookin' good. Nice to see you. Gotta go. Need to catch my train. Goodbye. See you."

"You little shit! Get back here!" Mr. Butch smashed on a few buttons to stop the elevator. The clunky device jerked. "Cloud, I'm talking to you! That stupid dog of yours! No dogs are allowed in this building!"

Cloud hurried to the bottom levels. "Can't hear you, Mr. Butch. Talk later!"

By the time he reached ground floor, Cloud heard all sorts of venomous words echo back to him from the elevator. Even if Mr. Butch forced the elevator to go down, at this point it was too late. Cloud was in the clear. A few residents popped out of their apartments to hear what the commotion was about. One elderly lady giggled and blushed as Cloud dashed past her. The boy made it out of the complex through a double set of doors. He had successfully evaded the wrath of the landlord. Crisis averted. For now.

Cloud now rushed to the train station, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He passed the beggars and dealers in his block. He ignored the whore who lifted up her ragged skirt and showcased her bushy mound. Today was his seventeenth birthday and, by God, he would get through this day with minimum hassle. Freaky corpses, landlords, and weirdoes be damned.


	4. City Woes

**Author's Note:** _Life in the big bad city sucks. Life in Chocobo Chow sucks even more._

* * *

CHAPTER 3: City Woes

The Plate of Midgar City. Or _a technological pizza_ as some called it due to its round landscape with eight triangular divisions. The giant metal disc hovered above the Slums and effectively cut off the clear blue sky from the underworld residents. The underworld had become a dark place because of it. From his apartment, Cloud could never see the blood-red dot that rose during early morning hours or the white eye that appeared among a starry black night. Instead, Cloud saw an assortment of metal beams, cables, concrete, and pillars any time he looked up. As crappy as his job had been so far, it at least provided him a legitimate reason to go up to the Plate and view the sky. The trips topside maintained his sanity.

Slipping inside the train's closing doors, Cloud barely made it on time. He took a deep breath and pushed past the other commuters in search of an empty seat. It was a packed train. Not really a surprise for the five o'clock rush hour. Commute to the Plate usually took a good fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, it posed a constant challenge here in the Slums.

There were too many people. Too many noises. Too many potential threats. Cloud had to keep an alert eye on his person. Muggers, drugs, and prostitution… they were the norms of the underworld. Any man dressed in a work uniform served as a potential target. It was because of this Cloud wore a heavy dark coat over his Chocobo Chow uniform every day and wrapped layers of masked tape around his wrist's barcode tattoo. Cyber muggers were a rampant problem in the city. The clever thieves used portable scanners with a built-in decipher code. They'd scan the wrist and transfer their victim's Gil to an untraceable account. Anyone's accounts and lifesavings were at risk with just a quick scan of a tattoo.

"_Welcome to the future of Midgar City_," a calm female's voice broadcasted from a clear flat-screen above Cloud's head. "_Take a peek into the bright horizon with Shinra's first line of aerial production, slated for a next year release._"

Images of Shinra Inc.'s latest design vehicles appeared. The models were sleek and smooth; all constructed of gloss-painted steel.

Already, Cloud heard rumors about a big move for Chocobo Chow. The powers-that-be were scoping out a high cubicle spot in Twenty-First Street. They wanted to be ready to serve the first aerial customers. It sounded crazy. And depressing. Even as Cloud commuted with the people in the sky and witnessed these marvelous inventions firsthand, he was still a lowly employee who resided in the dirt. He could never be a part of this world, not until he made it into the army. Into the Tsviets.

"_It's time to take to the heavens_," the advertisement concluded with a three-beat chime.

Cloud spotted a window seat at the very back of the train. A young man donned in a black jacket and leather pants stood in the way. His face was decked out with metal studs. He sported a bizarre, yet stylish haircut. With a PHS in hand, the sharply dressed man was in the middle of passing out business cards to a group of giggling women until he noticed Cloud. He chuckled at the sight of the Chocobo Chow badge that peeked out of his coat. The blond-haired teenager withdrew a curse word and covered it. Then he moved around him.

There were a lotta guys like this in the city. Usually stationed at corners of busy streets in downtown Midgar, they wore extravagant high-fashioned attire and expensive accessories. The pretty boys handed out cards to women. Cloud wondered what sort of funny business they were affiliated with. Club promoters? Musicians? Whores?

Cloud finally claimed his seat and exhaled through his mouth. Next to him was a wrinkle-faced, lanky businessman with a cheap suit, powerful cologne, and a weirdly shaped moustache. His thick-framed glasses amplified the size of his eyes, making them as big and lifeless as a bug's. The old man gave the boy a look-over.

Not in the mood for casual conversation of any kind, Cloud slipped on a pair of ear buds from his coat and turned on his PHS. The hypnotic steady beats of ambience music pumped loudly into his ears. It relaxed him during his commutes but also blocked off all the people who begged him for Gil or wanted to sell him their stolen goods. Cloud didn't bother to lower his volume when the businessman suddenly leaned closer to whisper something to him. He already knew what he wanted. Sometimes playing deaf to the world presented the most logical solution.

As the train started its ascent and followed the long spiraled tracks up to the Plate's surface, a familiar but unwanted sensation occurred. Cloud's stomach stirred. It initially started from a small pressure point in his belly. As the walls of the train and seat rattled nonstop, though, his upper abdominal muscles contracted. Cloud's heart committed to a fast-paced tempo. The air felt warmer. He took a deep swallow and held his breath. Cloud could hear the thumping sounds of his heart through both ears. Closing his eyes, the boy bent forward to relieve some of the pressure in his stomach. His hands clenched onto the knees. The nausea only worsened.

After all these years, Cloud still suffered from motion sickness. Kinetosis, they called it. He couldn't ride on a Chocobo as a kid because of it. It was also to blame for his failure in the physical exam this past summer. Shoved inside a helicopter simulator with the rest of the other applicants, he'd puked all over them, including the flight instructor. It was a tragic nightmare that earned him a spot in the red list. Unfortunately, Cloud had to overcome this challenge if he wanted to enlist in Shinra's army. Transportation in Midgar was also a necessity. Nothing was within walking distance in a place like this.

Withdrawing a bottle of pills from his coat's pocket, Cloud popped one into his mouth. They weren't the best medication in the world but they were better than none. Cloud made a face as he swallowed it. The acidic flavor of the pill left behind a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Nearly vomiting from it, Cloud quickly withdrew a fat stick of bubble gum. He chewed on it. Eventually the flavor of watermelon soaked across the surface of his tongue.

Feeling slightly better, Cloud stared out his window to find a horizon line. A physician once told him motion sickness was nothing more than the body's desire to re-orient its inner sense of balance. Uh. Sure. Whatever… Looking out the glass, Cloud tried to _re-orient his inner sense of balance_ by taking in the scenery. It made him feel worse in other ways though.

Observed from afar, the Slum's decaying condition became more obvious to him. The majority of the buildings lacked roofs. Their crumbling walls revealed rusted metal beams, an assortment of crudely painted words, and stray bullet holes. At a distance, there stood the silhouette of a Church. A chunk of its roof had collapsed inward. The metal cross on top slightly bent to the side. Hard to believe anyone could still practice an ounce of faith in this hellhole, Cloud thought. The underworld festered with all sorts of vices in an attempt to survive. It didn't leave much room for faith.

When the train rode past Sector 6 of the Slums, Wall Market came into view. It was a popular hotspot. Cloud enjoyed the Wutai noodles and received his motion sickness pills from the Pharmacy there. However, he kept his visits to Wall Market to a minimum. A lot of shady activities occurred there. It was home to Honey Bee Inn, a notorious cozy spot for paid sex. Drug deals also went down with the occasional gun shoot-outs.

The man responsible for the illegal shit-fest was a mafia boss named Don Corneo. Not much was known about him, except that he professed a special love for beautiful women, hard liquor, and torture chambers. Sex, drugs, and violence were definitely his cup of tea.

The longer Cloud viewed the outside scenery the more bitter he had become. Despair and corruption hid at every corner of the underworld. As the train rose higher and higher, he wanted to escape it all. He vowed he'd make it into the army and someday forget this dreadful place.

On the window's reflection, Cloud saw the old businessman next to him again. A briefcase rested over his lap now. It hid a hand that jerked up and down between the old man's legs. Cloud's lips shaped into a sneer. This man was old enough to be his father. But that didn't stop the pervert from expressing sexual interest in the teenager.

When Cloud turned back to glare at him, the businessman flicked out his tongue. He made perverse licking motions with it. Wild bug-like eyes stared at Cloud and never blinked. The pervert lifted his briefcase high enough to offer a full view of a moist, aged cock; as if the sight of it would inspire the boy to rest his head on the lap and blow him. Cloud refrained from punching the old man. Instead, he blew up a very large bubble from his wad of gum and popped it right in front of his face. Then he looked out the window again and turned up the ambient music in his PHS.

Normally, Cloud carried a concealed swift-blade and flashed it to idiots like this. One didn't survive the Slums without proper protection. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten his knife today in his haste to catch the train. Cloud ignored whatever verbal nonsense the old man responded with and listened to his music on full blast.

It was a common experience for him during late afternoon commute hours. Both the underworld and the Plate thrived in the perversion of the youth. For a bright-eyed boy like Cloud, he represented a desired commodity due to his physique and age. His soft, nearly feminine features served as the perfect embodiment of man and woman wrapped into one. Or as one crude man colorfully pointed out to him last week: _a severely fuckable pretty boy_. The price for his body and youth could easily afford him an upscale apartment on the Plate. Or so the perverts claimed. Cloud wasn't sure whether to feel appalled or intrigued by this.

Within fifteen minutes, the train reached the end of the long black tunnel. He finally arrived topside. The late afternoon sky immediately lit up the train with a natural orange light. Even when the hours drew closer to the evening, steel walls gleamed under the setting sun's intensity. Cloud blinked several times and had to readjust his eyes to the light.

He'd been in the darkness for too long. His skin itched and crawled with Goosebumps in reaction to the sun's warm rays. The darkness of the Slums had been lifted at last. A sky consumed by colors of blues and soft oranges welcomed him. The proud city of Midgar now flashed by Cloud's window; complete with a sea of finely attired citizens and flashy advertisements. No more make-shift, corroded buildings. No more filth-crusted faces. No more discarded trash in the streets that reeked of spoiled and consumed goods. He'd entered the city in the sky at last.

"_Soon arriving at the Third Sector,_" the train operator announced over the intercom, "_Please collect your belongings and watch your step._"

Cloud stopped chewing on his gum when he caught sight of Shinra's main company complex. It was further north at the center of the metropolis. In his mind he saw himself approach the long path of concrete steps that led up to its entrance. He imagined the rush of cool, air-conditioned air hit his face when the glassed doors automatically parted for him. The interior lights were bright. Reflections and lights haunted metal pillars. In his head, a group of elite soldiers appeared before him. They stood in a straight line, ready to greet their new member. Cloud's projected image smiled at them.

The train finally pulled to its first stop. Cloud lurched forward in his seat. When he saw a group of people quickly shuffle out, he rose from his seat to follow. It was time to go.

Cloud passed by the pervert on his way to the exit doors. The businessman hadn't looked away. His hand stayed out of public view but moved rapid. Cloud growled when a line of white abruptly squirted in the air. A few drops landed on the edge of his coat. Irritated, Cloud reacted by punching the old man on the face. A bone cracked and the nose burst with red. Cloud hurried to the exit before a Shinra infantryman arrived to investigate the screams.

His dream had to wait. Tonight, he had burgers to flip, tables to wipe, and people to deal with.

* * *

Saturday's crowd was surprisingly not as demanding and annoying like yesterday's bunch. While many came, it was not as packed like the previous Saturdays. That had much to do with the gruesome discovery in the museum earlier today. In light of the disturbing news, many customers wore protective face-masks to ward off the alleged bioweapon virus or simply stayed home. A few families kept together and whispered about the corpse. They shook their heads in fear.

Aside from a slightly tensed atmosphere, it was still a usual workday in Chocobo Chow. There was puke on a booth that required cleaning and a fight between two twelve-year-old kids had broken out. Their parents eventually intervened but they also needed to be broken up shortly after. And that was just the beginning of Cloud's shift.

Because he'd been rotated to work as cashier tonight, his life had been threatened at least three times. People didn't take too kindly to being asked by a teenager to show their barcode and pay for their meals. They also expected immediate results within seconds of placing their orders, as if Cloud had any control over that from his current station. Regardless of all this, he represented the face of Chocobo Chow from behind the register. He was the first face people saw when they entered the establishment. Thus, faking a smile, Cloud grimly recalled his small insignificant role in the universe. So long as he donned this atrocious uniform he had to play the part of _happy_ employee.

"Welcome to Chocobo Chow. Wark. Wark. Wark. How can I serve you today? Would you like to hear about our specials?" Cloud greeted to every man, woman, and child that stepped up to his counter.

At least there was tonight's birthday event to look forward to. Cloud still had no idea what to expect. He regretted not bringing an extra pair of clothes to change into. However, it was very likely his coworkers would take him out for a movie or a quick drink at the Hobgoblins like last year. It wasn't a big deal.

Thankfully, Mr. Mukki remained unaware of the birthday celebration tonight. There'd be no unwanted party crashers. The flamboyant manager did leave a present in Cloud's locker though. When he clocked into work and put away his coat, there was a wrapped gift on the top shelf. He had opened it and quickly frowned. The present was a heart-shaped frame with a picture of Mr. Mukki's grinning face. A lipstick imprint appeared on the frame's glass. Fucking unbelievable.

At around seven-thirty, Cloud went outside to the playground and took his break. The air had become chilly. Thick, dark clouds gathered across a starless night sky with a moon half awake. A fresh smell of incoming rain lingered heavy in the air. Due to the Plate's high attitude, the clash of warm-to-sudden-cool temperatures drew a light mist. It settled over the glossy, light-reflected streets of Midgar City. Distant pillars of structured metals were reduced to mere silhouettes.

Cloud wore his coat over the Chocobo Chow uniform. He had replaced the goofy hat with his ash gray beanie. Having been born and raised in the snow, the cold air didn't bother him at all. However, he absolutely hated being seen in public with his retarded uniform on, even at work.

A multi-colored spinner and Chocobo spring riders flanked his sides while the large Chocobo animatronic stood a few feet away, overlooking the driveway. Through the large glass wall that divided the outdoor playground from the main eating area, the teenager could see directly into the restaurant. Sitting on a swing, Cloud sat alone at the outdoor playground. All of the rotten brats had retreated indoors on account of the cold and looming rain. Enjoying this moment of peaceful solitude, he heard only the sounds of rushing cars and distant sirens.

Among the colorful landscape of neon-lights and steam pipes, Cloud noticed a number of disc-shaped sentries in Twenty-First Street. These small robots hovered in the air and patrolled the restaurant's intersecting streets. Some went as high as the skyscrapers' full heights. Their blue multi-beams swayed back and forth, searching for anything amiss. No doubt their presence was in reaction to today's grisly discovery at the museum. Cloud eventually ignored them, however, and took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. His other hand held a copy of _The Art of War: Ancient Teachings of the Blade_.

Cloud's ears were plugged and tuned in to the sounds of electric reggae music from his PHS while he read one passage after another. There were fifty chapters but he was already on chapter forty-five. Raised in a rural community with no television and no friends, there wasn't much to do in a sleepy town like Nibelheim outside of setting up traps for potential predators, shoveling snow, and reading.

Cloud had already gone through hundreds of books; they became his personal escape. Stories of heroism and mystery stood as his personal preferences. Horror and academic textbooks, on the other hand, usually collected dust on the shelves. Unfortunately, the book Cloud currently read was a strictly by-the-numbers topic. It had been recommended material for his upcoming exam.

The exam…

There was much to cover in terms of terminology, mandatory regulations, and comprehensive knowledge. A desolate place like Nibelheim had little need for high advanced formulas, theoretical concepts related to the universe, and psychological-based speculations. Cloud grew up ignorant of the modern citizen's topics. Thankfully, he saved enough Gil this year to enroll in a class at the Slums' library. Intended for drop-outs and immigrants, it helped young men like him earn a general education certificate. They were boring as hell, though. Half the time Cloud struggled to stay awake.

As for Shinra's physical exam, that was the area he needed most work on. His motion sickness proved a liability, likewise his scrawny frame. Cloud needed to pack on more pounds and keep up with his motion sickness pills. All was not lost though. While he did terrible with the physical requirements, he did excel in one area: swordsmanship.

Reading hadn't been the only activity he'd taken up as a kid. His mother had personally seen to that.

Cloud was in the middle of a sentence when the sound of a very loud, out-of-pitched melody interrupted him. His eyes quickly shot up. A brightly colored Chocobo Chow food truck turned a corner on the street and nearly crashed into a pole. On its roof, an oversized Chocobo head on a metal spring wobbled back and forth. Thankfully, the truck veered left just in time and pulled into the parking lot without a scratch. At the driver's helm was a familiar face: Biggs.

Wedge's best friend looked worse for wear. Cloud suspected tonight's deliveries had been a pain in the ass. There were too many take-out orders tonight on account of the depressing, cold weather. That and many people chose to stay home after news of the latest corpse.

Cloud wouldn't have minded the task of being Chocobo Chow's delivery man. It would give him an excuse to get out of the restaurant and explore Midgar City. Unfortunately, his motion sickness and lack of a driver's license prevented him from taking the job. As Biggs maneuvered the vehicle to a tight-fitting parking space, Cloud took off his earphones. He waited for the other teenager to exit the vehicle before nodding a silent 'hello' to him.

"Fuuuuck me," Biggs spat and removed his Chocobo Chow hat. He tossed it in the air and didn't care where it landed. "Downtown is a cluster-fuck, man. I was stuck in traffic for over thirty minutes. Some old lady got pissed by the wait and didn't pay me. Another jerk ran off with the food. Nobody tipped either." Biggs occupied the empty swing next to Cloud and slouched in it. "It's a fucking mess tonight."

Cloud cocked a brow. Traffic in Midgar was usually okay, even during weekends. It never got bad unless there was a major public event called by President Shinra or a city-wide emergency. Curious, he asked, "What happened?"

"You know about the dead body they found today at the museum?"

"What about it?"

"It's a fucking warzone there. Lotta roads at the Entertainment District have been blocked off."

Cloud's mouth partly dropped. Confused, he waited for Biggs to elaborate.

"The museum was lit up with sirens, man. I saw a lot of Shinra IM trucks and ambulances at the scene while I took a detour," Biggs soon revealed, "Some dark, bald-headed guy with sunglasses was there too. I think he was a _Turk_. He stood at a check point and scanned and verified IDs. It's why I was so damn late on my deliveries. I swear; I nearly pissed my pants. The Turks don't fuck around."

Cloud set the book down on his lap, interested in this shocking turn of events. So far, Shin-Ra News made no mention of the ID checks. All evening long there'd been the usual line-up of sitcoms. Even now, as Cloud glimpsed at the translucent flat-screens that floated above the restaurant's seating area, he saw only popular cartoons and commercials. No news on the traffic lock-up.

The blond-haired teen scooted forward in his swing and now faced Biggs' direction. "Are you serious? Didn't the Turks already remove the body earlier today? Why were they still there?"

"I don't know," Biggs responded and shook his head. "Like I said, it's a warzone at the museum. But it may have something to do with the crazy shit I heard while I was waiting at a checkpoint."

"Crazy shit? What crazy shit?"

"Some people at the checkpoint with me claimed they heard gunshots coming from the museum."

"_What?_"

"Yeah." Biggs paused when a sentry floated above their heads. The disc's beams briefly showered over them. It scanned their profiles for only a second. Then it moved on. Biggs watched it fly away and whispered, "One guy even said he saw a Tsviet enter the museum."

From where he sat, Cloud shifted his focus to the direction of the museum. He saw a few helicopters circle the skies. Confused, he asked, "Why would a Tsviet be there?"

"Dunno. Like I said, it's what I heard."

"A Tsviet… at the museum?" Cloud allowed himself a moment to soak in this information. It sounded like a bogus claim. The Tsviets rarely appeared in public. Shinra's elite group of soldiers was assigned only to top-class missions. All low standard affairs were left to the IMs.

Biggs pursed his lips and appeared deep in thought as well. He slowly swung back and forth in his chained seat. Quietly, he remarked, "Maybe it really _is_ a bioweapon caused by Wutai rebels. Why else would someone hang the body like that? It's to send a message."

"You think so?"

"Yea. It has to be, man. Maybe the Turks are in downtown right now because they're trying to flush the rebels out. It'd explain the gunshots and why a Tsviet was in the area."

"Hm. No wonder Shinra wants to send more troops to Wutai this year." Cloud scratched the bottom of his chin. He felt tiny, oddly placed stubbles there and mildly reminded himself to shave soon. "It's kinda weird though. Wutai rebels manufacturing viruses? Wutai always struck me as a country that fought their battles in a more traditional sense…"

"I know, right? I never figured their country was into biological warfare shit either. But I guess if they're into it, then we got no choice but to take them out." Biggs shook his head. "Man. These deaths… They've been going on for years now. If it's really a manufactured virus then I hope it's not airborne."

Cloud sipped his coffee and stared out in the distance. His eyes strayed from the helicopters to Shinra's Headquarters.

The Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department, otherwise known as _the Turks_, resided in the main company's complex. Donning black business suits, they served as President Shinra's investigative unit. Not much was known about the Turks. Their group mostly dwelled within the shadows and underbelly of Midgar City. With the simple flip of a PHS, they could order the destruction of a city or remove a person's entire existence. Nobody fucked with them. A persistent rumor circulated in the streets though: anyone who joined the Turks couldn't leave except in a body-bag.

Cloud wondered who would be crazy enough to join such a crazed organization. Perhaps the pay was really _that_ good?

With the Turks apparently neck-deep in the city's unexplained corpse cases, Cloud wasn't sure whether to feel worried or fascinated. A lingering sense of danger consumed the air. Corpses. Creature sightings. Wutai rebels. The Turks and the Tsviets had their work cut out for them. Cloud wondered if he'd see any action once he was accepted in the army. The thought of it both terrified and excited him.

"What are you reading?" Biggs suddenly asked.

Lost in thought, it took Cloud a moment to realize Biggs had just addressed him. When he finally understood the question he grabbed the book from his lap. "Hm, this? Just a book about swords."

The other boy studied the cover with his eyes. "Ah, that's right. You're enlisting in Shinra's army. Right?"

"I am," Cloud confirmed. He added with an annoyed grunt later, "I'm _trying_ to anyway."

"I heard it's hard to enter the army. Just the infantryman level is hard as balls. A few buddies tried to enlist. It didn't pan out." Biggs stopped swinging when he spotted a pair of attractive ladies pass by. He grinned and winked at them. The girls ignored him but giggled with a blush when they noticed Cloud sitting next to him. Rolling his eyes, Biggs later asked, "I'm guessing you're gonna shoot for the Tsviets too, huh?"

"That's the plan," Cloud replied, completely oblivious to the girls who eyed him as they entered the restaurant. With a small smile, he declared, "I'm gonna shoot my way to the top."

Biggs quickly frowned. "But it's impossible to join them. You have to be… exceptional."

"And you don't think I can be_?_" Cloud gave out a loud snort when Biggs didn't have a reply.

Just the mention of the Tsviets sent Cloud's mind coiling with erratic and anxious thoughts.

Their faces. Their names. Cloud knew all about them. Several years ago, Shinra introduced the world to the Tsviets: an elite group of warriors that had been genetically modified and endowed with unusual gifts. There was Weiss the Immaculate, Nero the Sable, and Rosso the Crimson. The latest recruits who joined the group were Azul the Cerulean and Shelke the Transparent, their youngest member. Together, they possessed extraordinary strengths and abilities, all thanks to the special engineering teams from Shinra's Science Department.

The architect behind it all was Dr. Hollander, some fifty-six-year-old chubby man with a scruffy face who hailed from Banora Village. His group of perfect soldiers took on most of the Shinra's perilous missions. Populations of dangerous predators outside the borders of human towns had been dwindled by half because of them. Even the fabled Behemoths, prehistoric giants that once dominated the lands, had met their match.

Scientists from across the world declared the Tsviets as superior beings. Their existence demonstrated the next stage of human evolution. Spiritual protestors, on the other hand, denounced them as abominations of Gaia and decried the use of genetic engineering. A few of them claimed this was not the first time Shinra's _mad scientists_ had meddled with human life in an attempt to create the perfect soldier. There'd been previous experiments and candidates. They ranged from an army of undead men to striking figures with starry-blue eyes. Or so the stories went.

Some decade or two ago, Shinra's entire science department was wiped out by a great fire. The fire took with it the laboratory's former headman, Dr. Hojo. Only Dr. Hollander survived. No one could explain what caused the fire. Protestors attributed it as a deliberate act against Shinra and its unethical practices.

No matter the debates and questions, the Tsviets remained mankind's most promising children. They served as beckons of light that ushered their species into a new era of human superiority. Cloud Strife aspired to become such a beckon.

"They're the best of the best," Cloud proudly proclaimed, feeling like a ten-year-old boy again. "I heard Weiss the Immaculate has the strength of ten men. His brother is younger than me but can manipulate the elements of shadow. Can you imagine? People with powers like that? It's… incredible."

"Yea, I guess." Biggs slowly swung in his seat. His voice sounded low and distant. "You checked out that website I linked you awhile back, right? _AVALANCHE?_ It's got more information on the Tsviets."

Cloud figured Biggs would bring that website up. The boy hosted a fond fascination toward the occult. He also enjoyed investigating events and mind-numbing discussions, particularly conspiracy theories related to Shinra. Biggs received most of his information from an underground website called _AVALANCHE_. Run by a weird environmental hipster named Fuhito, it was one of the first sites to leak photos of today's corpse.

Fuhito had claimed Shinra already knew the cause of deaths but concealed that knowledge from the general public. Cloud wasn't too keen on this man or his so-called AVALANCHE movement. The majority of Fuhito's posts read like angry rants against Shinra as well as environmental-related sermons. Recycle. Repent. Pray for all sins made against the Planet. That sort of thing. Fuhito's followers consisted of gas-masked individuals who tagged the walls of subways with President Shinra's head on fat dicks and infected people's computers with viruses. It was hard to take them seriously.

"According to Fuhito, the Tsviets receive regular showers of Mako and reside in an underground section of Shinra's complex; the rumored _Mako Zero_ reactor," Biggs disclosed. His eyes wandered to the tall building that stood at the center of Midgar City. "Genetic engineering and Mako consumption… I don't know about you, Cloud, but that sounds dangerous."

"I don't see how. Mako is safe. I mean, look around you." Cloud glanced up at the sky to prove his point. Soft glows of green Mako energy floated across the cloudy sky of Midgar. "We live and breathe this stuff every day. If it was poisonous we'd all be dead by now."

"What about that Mako-related virus that might have killed the guy in the museum? Sure, it could be a bioweapon from Wutai extremists, but maybe the Mako mutated. That's what some AVALANCHE followers think. This virus could very well be the Planet's way of fighting back."

"That's all paranoid hearsay," Cloud shot back, tempted to roll his eyes. "Fact is: no one knows anything about how these people are dying. But Mako itself is safe. Shinra wouldn't expose its greatest soldiers with toxic energy. Right?"

"I guess. It's just …"

"Just what?" Cloud pressed him.

"I dunno. According to Fuhito, the Tsviets aren't the only super soldiers Shinra created. There were others before them, soldiers from a predecessor program. _Powerful_ ones. Perhaps more powerful than the Tsviets themselves. But for some reason, that program was cancelled and…" Biggs stopped himself when he noticed the unconvinced look on Cloud's face. He sighed. "Ah, never mind. It's nothing." He pointed at Cloud's book. "You know how to handle one, by the way?"

"Hm?"

"Swords," Biggs specified. "You know how to handle one?"

"Oh. Um, yea. Been training with the sword since I was a kid."

"For reals?" Biggs' eyes widened, obviously impressed. "I don't know many people who can use a sword. Machine guns are the way to go these days. I'm guessin' your old man taught ya?"

Cloud shook his head. "My mom, actually."

Biggs blinked several times.

"Back home, the Nibel wolves get really aggressive during winter time on account of food scarcity," Cloud explained. "Hunters have to ward them off from the village every year. Nibelheim also has to deal with creatures from the mountains and forest area. My mom had me accompany her on the hunts. She taught me the sword and how to track."

Biggs blew off a whistle. "Whoa. That's cool! Beats my childhood. I learned how to tie my shoe."

The other boy smirked back. As Cloud's eyes fell on his book, his thoughts drifted to his mother.

Cloud was grateful she taught him the blade. He'd taken to it naturally, despite his short size and frail frame. Initially, he thought his mother trained him to keep him outta trouble. And rightly so. A reckless child, Cloud had punched, kicked, smashed, and spat his way up to a very bad reputation in the village. It was an entire childhood consumed by self-hate and rage. His mother helped him channel that anger toward something more productive through the hunts. But Mrs. Strife also wanted her boy to protect himself.

At home it was just the two of them. No father. No extended family. Mom's peculiar ways had made her the black sheep of Nibelheim. They were on their own. Determination and a need to protect her only boy drove Mrs. Strife to teach him the ways of the sword, however. Every winter at least five villagers died to the predators that stalked the land. Cloud nearly joined that number.

Instinctively, the solemn teenager placed a hand on his belly. The years had reduced his scar to a thin line of beveled flesh; a parting gift. Cloud's hand gripped the fabric of his clothes tightly when he recalled the night of a great blizzard.

He was eight at the time. A pack of wolves had infiltrated the village during the winter storm. In a panic, he had retreated to the forest by himself. His mother always warned him never to go alone, yet his fear had gotten the best of him that day. Visibility was low and Cloud remembered the numbness over his body. The snow had rushed down hard; his snot turned to ice. The steel sword in his hand had weighed a ton. _You'll need to build the strength to lift it, silly boy_, his mother used to tease. He must've wandered in that forest for over an hour. As he had tried to make his way back to the village, though, a giant wolf emerged from the snow storm. Its fur was an ash-gray color; the eyes an ice-blue shade.

It was a giant Alpha male. However, it didn't belong to the Nibel wolf pack. It came from a different breed altogether. His mother called it the _Fenrir_; a rogue wolf who had settled in the Nibel area long ago and acquired leadership among the Nibel wolves. Cloud thought it was strange. An outsider? Who was leader of a powerful pack?

Cloud couldn't recall who'd made the first move back then. Him? The beast? It had happened so fast. Details of the battle were blurred by his state of panic. But Cloud remembered drops of blood on the white snow. And the scream. In the snowy haze, he thought he saw his mother with wide-opened eyes and a ready sword.

The elder villagers had long ago dismissed the Fenrir as mere myth. It belonged only to the stories of the old Gods, they claimed. But Mom knew. Mom knew that such a giant beast existed. She just never imagined her boy would become a firsthand witness to its apparition.

Stupid, silly boy, Cloud thought as he sat alongside Biggs. He quickly wanted to cut himself off from the memory. He didn't want to think about the blizzard that brought with it a fiery-eyed beast. Not a day passed when he didn't fear the Fenrir's return; when he'd hear its terrible howl during some deep, cold night. Cloud hoped that night never came.

Despair. It was a promise he never forgot.

"Your mother sounds like a bad-ass," Biggs remarked, interrupting Cloud's thoughts, "And you being a hunter, that's cool too. You probably can adapt to any cold setting. The army will like that."

"Yea, I guess…" Cloud observed the chaotic scene of Twenty-First Street. He saw a handsome young man in a fine suit pass out a business card to a woman. "It's a shame I'm still trying to adapt to _this_ terrain though. Everything here is strange."

"Aren't we all trying to adapt?" Biggs chuckled. "By the way, what about your dad?"

"What about him?"

"Did he help with the hunts?"

"My dad died before I was born."

"Oh…" A pause. "I'm sorry."

"What for? You didn't kill him." Cloud sipped the rest of his coffee in silence. Afterward, he crushed the empty paper cup in one hand and tossed it at a nearby Clean-Up robot. He always hated these types of personal questions. Quickly, he muttered, "We should head inside. My break is over."

"Yea," Biggs agreed. He got up and stretched his legs. "More take-outs for me to deliver, I bet. Thankfully, we got only an hour left before the shift is done. Then it's onto some _serious_ partying."

Nodding back, Cloud was also ready to join in some festivities after work. As he stood and headed for the entry, he noted, "You guys still haven't told me what we're doing tonight or where we're going."

"Pft. Don't worry about it. Telling you would defeat the purpose of the surprise." When he noticed the frown on Cloud's face, Biggs laughed and patted him on the back. "Sheesh, Cloud. Take it easy. Sometimes, you gotta let nature take its natural course and just hold on for the ride."

Cloud made another face. He was incapable of _taking it easy_. His own mother named him _Cloud_ after she noticed he didn't smile much: he frowned. A lot. Cloud had arrived into this world as a bundle of uptight nerves. He rarely cried nor giggled. Nearly every photograph from his childhood revealed a wide-eyed, blond-haired boy who blankly stared at the camera; caught in the middle of some distress or confusion. The whole world posed as a giant puzzle he couldn't figure out. There were days Mrs. Strife teased him. She insisted he was really a paranoid ninety-year-old Gramps trapped inside a kid's body. Whatever.

Both teens headed back inside the restaurant.


	5. Milkshake

**Author's Notes:**_ Beware ghouls and goblins, Chapter 4 is packed with language and 'mature' talk and content. Trek carefully. Lastly, because Nunchaku (Before Crisis) never had a real name in his Turks bio, I named him 'Kyle' (he's actually hot, heh)._

* * *

CHAPTER 4: Milkshake

Biggs' news of tonight's happenings at the museum had been shoved aside when Cloud manned the cash register again. Thankfully, it didn't take too long for him to settle back into his work shift and rhythm. A steady flow of incoming customers kept his eyes away from the clock and thinking about his tonight's birthday celebrations. Mr. Mukki stopped by once in a while too. He batted his eyes at Cloud and blew him a birthday kiss. The boy merely rolled his eyes. The oddball manager thankfully returned to his office, no doubt to spy on him through the camera feed.

As time progressed, with Cloud's shift coming closer and closer to an end, the number of newcomers dwindled. By eight-forty, things had slowed down enough for him to catch his breath. He passed the time by completing mundane tasks. First, he assigned all Clean-Up Units to a designated area for maintenance. Then he started the process of restocking items at the counter. As Cloud pulled out a row of plastic cups from a metal cabinet, he looked out at the restaurant's seating area to check if any customers needed assistance.

Surprisingly, the people appeared satisfied. No fights broke out. No bickering. No annoying brats tossing food in the air for the hell of it. Many of them engaged in lively chat. Cloud lowered his gaze whenever he came across couples, though, both the young and the old ones.

Admittedly, he hated the weekends. This was the time of the week when lovers came out in full force. It wasn't so much as their needy demands or obnoxious attitudes that bothered Cloud, but rather, their silly smiles and laughter. Their world was painted with rainbows and butterflies. Heated gazes. Intertwined fingers. Soft whispers. Pressed hot lips. The couples here experienced a close-knit happiness Cloud could only _dream_ of sharing with someone special. One person came to mind.

Tifa's crimson-brown eyes still burned deep into his memory along with a bittersweet longing and frustration. On days like this, Cloud wished Tifa Lockhart never existed.

Suppressing these thoughts, Cloud noticed two boys his age sitting opposite of each other in a booth. They leaned forward in their seats and shared a milkshake together. Talking in hushed tones, Cloud frowned when he saw their feet playfully tap against each other below the table. He tried to look away but continued to watch when one of them removed a sandal. He slid his bare foot up the other's leg. Cloud stood tensed as it settled over the boy's crotch.

Coming from a village like Nibelheim, the concept of guys hooking up with guys still caught Cloud off guard. It was unheard of. All the boys in Nibelheim hyped over the girls. Cloud had never encountered same-sex couples until coming to Midgar.

Granted, taking a piss in the restroom stalls with other boys did present him an awkward moment. But it was a moment shared by many teenaged boys at the mercy of hormones and natural curiosity. The hidden desire to check and compare the cock sizes and funny shapes of other boys often offset social expectations and personal beliefs. It couldn't be helped. The human mind was meant to wander and analyze. But Cloud refused to consider boys as an option. He felt… _off_ about it.

Observing the two teenagers slurp up their milkshake, Cloud's hands now gripped the plastic cups. He didn't understand where his discomfort came from. He saw the smiles on their faces; saw the other boy rub his excited budge against the foot between his legs. The teens sucked on their milkshake with a heated look in their eyes, both hungrily draining the milky-white substance in the glass. Seeing them together like that, reveling in lust and their cream-filled dessert… Cloud was halfway tempted to kick them out of the restaurant out of mere spite. Out of all the couples in here, he hated those two young men most of all. And he couldn't understand why.

The cups in Cloud's hands suddenly slipped between his fingers and scattered to the floor. He growled. "Damn it…"

Behind the counter, Cloud went on his knees and gathered all the plastic cups. He felt stupid for feeling the way he did. His face burned with heat. He was livid. Over what, Cloud didn't know. The spilt cups? His life-sucking job? Those boys? Himself? Life in general? God, he was pathetic and a lost cause, Cloud thought as he collected the cups. A male's voice suddenly addressed him. It came from the other side of the counter.

"Sir? _Excuse me, sir?_" The voice whined and wasted no time waiting for a response. Instead, the male barked, "I'd like to make a complaint. This food tastes like shit and the blond-haired cutie with the nice ass still won't give me his number or put out. I want that guy fired."

Squatted on the ground, Cloud banged his head from under the marble counter and muttered an obscenity. He instantly recognized the voice. Of all the people to enter the restaurant, he didn't want to see _him_ right now; not in his current awkward, shitty mood. Reluctantly, Cloud rose to his feet. He stifled a sigh.

A young man with short, curly blond hair stood at the other side of the cash register. He wore a short, fur-white coat and light-washed denim jeans that hung dangerously low to his hips. A ring decorated each finger while his neck donned a diamond-studded choker with a chain still attached to it; his personal version of a _necktie_. Oddly enough, the boy had no shoes on. It left the bottoms of his feet dirty and dark. Carrying a pair of silver nunchucks on his metal-studded belt, they dangled and chimed each time he moved.

"Couldn't think of another person to harass today, Kyle?" Cloud asked the new arrival.

"Who better to harass than the birthday guy himself?" the other teenager declared.

Tossing few cups into a nearby trashcan, Cloud found it hard to look at the other boy. It was clear Kyle didn't have any underwear on. Just above his completely hairless groin area was a small tattoo of an up arrow with the words 'this end up'. Pierced pink nipples appeared across his bare chest.

The indecently dressed boy presented a boxed cupcake to Cloud. He slid the vanilla frosted treat across the counter. "Did you think I forgot? You know I wouldn't forget my friend's birthday."

Cloud accepted the gift but tilted his head when he closely surveyed it. He tapped on the box with a finger. "Something tells me this birthday cupcake isn't as _innocent_ as it looks."

Kyle's lips stretched into an easy smile. "Ah, how you know me so well, Cloud. That little baby is loaded with at least three bags of my finest stuff."

"That's what I figured…" Cloud snorted quietly to himself and set the drug-laced cupcake aside.

Kyle was certainly a weird, preppy boy. In the underworld, everyone called him _Nunchaku_ on account of his habit of hitting anyone who pissed him off with nunchucks or using them for hard sex. He resided in the Slums too but was financially well off. Even when Kyle illegally worked the streets as a hustler and dealer on behalf of Don Corneo, a persistent rumor claimed he originated from Bone Village and was the single heir to a very rich family. He had settled in the Slums when he got bored of the pampered life though. Cloud didn't know if the rumor was true; he never asked. The boy's charismatic ways certainly made the claims sound legitimate enough.

The truth of Kyle's origins didn't matter much to the Nibelheim native, especially when the street rat was one of his earlier acquaintances. Cloud had struggled when he first arrived in Midgar. Homeless and tossed aside like the other immigrants, he managed to survive when Kyle took him under his wing. Kyle got him an affordable place. He set up his job interview with Mr. Mukki. Most importantly, he kept the Slums' local gangs and interested pimps away from the _fresh meat_. Cloud often wondered how a boy of similar age could hold so much sway like that.

Despite his young age and chaotic lifestyle, Kyle possessed street smarts and skills to keep him ahead of the game. He knew all the happenings in Midgar City and the Slums; knew all the major players from above and below the Plate. His likeable personality made him the center of attention.

Some part of Cloud resented the fellow blonde for that. Everyone loved Kyle. Nobody could resist him. Either the people wanted to be like him or fuck him. It was why Cloud rarely hung out with his friend. He hated the inevitable comparisons people did whenever they appeared together; _two_ blond-haired boys of similar age. Cloud always fell short on Kyle's level of suave and charm.

Still, as much as Cloud was jealous of his friend, he remained grateful to him. And he honestly dreaded the day when his friend would someday show up naked and dead in some abandoned alleyway. Used up like a ragged doll. Kyle played life too much on the edge. The hard drugs he used, his overly promiscuous nature, and the dangerous people he was associated with made an early departure seemed inevitable, even when the preppy boy casually joked about it.

"Quiet night, eh? Not your usual packed house for a Saturday," Kyle commented as he leaned his backside against the counter and studied the people at the main seating area.

"Haven't you seen the news?" Cloud explained while he readjusted his fluffy Chocobo Chow hat. "Most of our regulars have stayed home. Everyone is scared."

"Well. Not _everyone_…" Kyle noted; distracted elsewhere.

Sitting at a booth directly across, a mother of two children glared at Kyle. She appeared visibly offended by his provocative clothes and complained to her husband about it. The husband refused to turn around and look at what peeved her. Instead, he continued eating his meal with his back to Kyle.

As the husband ate, the frisky teenager met the woman's gaze. Kyle placed two fingers to his pink lips and slightly spread them apart to create a V-shape. He flicked out a pierced tongue at the empty space in-between. In a suggestive manner, his tongue slowly rolled back and forth in circles. The mother blushed now. She reactively squeezed her inner thighs together and stared at her food while her oblivious husband demanded more fries.

"You're horrible," Cloud declared to Kyle.

"How would you know?" his friend innocently asked and cocked his head back to the Chocobo Chow employee. "You've never been acquainted with my tongue. A shame, that."

"Did I mention you're also gross?"

"It adds to the flavor."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Afterward, he thought about the shoot-out Biggs had mentioned earlier. If anyone knew anything about it, it had to be Kyle. "Do you know what happened at the museum tonight? Something about a shooting?"

Kyle turned his entire body around so that he now faced Cloud. He leaned forward on the counter; not bothered if his low-riding jeans revealed a bit of his ass to the people behind. "Hm, I might. But it's gonna cost you…"

A low growl emitted between Cloud's teeth. He should've known. Nothing came out of the street rat's mouth for free or cheap. Even Don Corneo had to pay for his information. Unfortunately for Cloud, he already knew what Kyle wanted. He shook his head. "Forget it: I'm not going on a date with you…"

"Pft. Figures." Kyle's brows drew low together. "Why do you always have to play hard?"

"Why do you always want to get inside my pants?" Cloud retorted.

"Because it's nice and warm in there. And…" Kyle stood straight. His hand reached out and playfully tapped the Chocobo plush head on Cloud's hat. He watched the ridiculous feature bounce up and down and almost laughed. "…Behind this grease-stained, horrendous looking uniform is a drop-dead gorgeous boy with an incredible body and the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen."

"But I'm a _guy_," Cloud quickly reminded him.

"Yes. Last time I checked, you were."

"And I'm only into women," Cloud also felt the need to clarify.

"Have you ever been with a guy?" Kyle's hand casually pulled on his neck chain while he waited for an answer. When Cloud shook his head, he challenged, "Then how do you know you're _only_ into women?"

Stumped for a moment, Cloud didn't have an immediate response.

He always knew Kyle liked guys. Even when he'd been with plenty of women, men were his preference. He had six boyfriends and a track record of casual flings. For some damn reason, however, Kyle wanted _him_. Cloud had learned to deal with the guy's advances to some capacity. He either downplayed his friend's flirtations or changed the subject.

A sexual relationship with another boy was beyond Cloud's scope. Women already got him off just fine. There was no need to explore anything else beyond that.

"I just _know_," Cloud affirmed at last.

"Oh?" Kyle replied; unconvinced. "You do?"

"This is getting to be ridiculous…"

"Ah, don't be that way, Cloud." Kyle's fingers stroked the long metal chain around his neck again. "It's an honest question. I'm just curious why you're dead-set against a date with another guy. It's not like you're obligated to suck each other off. It's a simple date."

Briefly, Cloud observed the two boys in the booth again. They played footsy with each other. The one on the receiving end slightly thrust his hips forward and snickered playfully to his partner. Cloud removed his hat for a second and ruffled his sticky hair. Somehow, the air had gotten hotter.

"Well?" Kyle persisted again.

"Not interested. I'm fine with having just one sausage in my life," Cloud answered back and forced his eyes away from the booth, "…and that would be _mine_."

"Gods, you're a stubborn son-of-a-bitch."

"A part of my charm." Cloud put on his hat again and checked the time. "We done? I got work to do."

Kyle thought a moment. He glanced up at the virtual menu that floated above the counter. "Hm. I can actually go for something."

Clearing his throat, Cloud put forward his best professional voice and acted as if their talk over sausages never happened. "Would you like to hear today's specials? We have a two-for-one combo deal that comes with a medium-size beverage and fries. The Charming Chocobo Deli is a new addition to our menu. I recommend you try the number two, though: the Sassy Salsa Cutie Chocobo Salad."

Pressing a button from his console, Cloud pulled up a large, cylindrical-shaped interface menu. The virtual food list wrapped around his body and spun slowly, featuring images of food. A holograph of a baby Chocobo appeared. It warked triumphantly after Cloud highlighted the selections he just discussed.

Contemplating over his options, Kyle wrapped his pinky around a curly strand of hair. His lithe body shifted to one side. "How about a medium-sized vanilla milkshake? Mm, that sounds nice."

Cloud paused at the request. His eyes strayed to the two boys at the booth with a similar dessert. The odd moment came and went. He pressed the virtual image of Kyle's request; the baby Chocobo warked again. A victory-sounding melody filled the air. Quietly, Cloud notified, "That'll be four-fifty."

Kyle dug into his fur coat's pocket and swiftly pulled out a wad of Gil. "Got change for a hundred, love?"

Cloud sighed while the menu evaporated into tiny pixels and disappeared. "You know we only take twenty Gil or less, smart-ass. In fact, you oughtta be happy we still offer paper Gil transactions at all."

"Yeah, yeah…" Kyle gave a twenty to Cloud. "I keep hoping you'll notice the Gil I make and change your mind. You could earn _so much more_ than this shitty place. Just say the word. I'll set you up."

Cloud didn't doubt he'd make a shit-ton of Gil if he whored the way his friend did or sold the latest drugs in the streets. A lot of men their age already did, both in the Slums and on the Plate. But Cloud couldn't live with himself if he tried that lifestyle. He came to Midgar for a dream; not to sell his flesh and soul. Three years had passed since Kyle presented him several job opportunities. Cloud still didn't regret his decision to choose Mr. Mukki's interview over Don Corneo's.

Accepting the bill, Cloud gave Kyle back his change. He was one of the few people who actually used paper transactions in this digital savvy world. The guy didn't even have a barcode tattoo. It was understandable though. Kyle ran a shady business on the side. He didn't want traces of his income to show up anywhere. Most of the Slums operated the same way, especially in Wall Market.

Kyle plopped himself on the counter and set both elbows on the marble counter while he waited for his shake. The neck chain dangled between his fingers. "Can I ask you a very personal question?"

Cloud sensed doom in the horizon and quickly busied himself with Kyle's dessert. He grabbed a long metal container and activated a machine behind him. It spat out vanilla ice cream. When the vase reached halfway full, he transferred it to a blender machine. Cloud fetched milk from a fridge.

"Cloud…" Kyle started again when the silence between them prevailed for far too long, "…When was the last time you got laid?"

And just like that… _boom._ There it was. Kyle's question fell like a nuclear explosion. It wiped out all sense of normalcy in the room. Cloud nearly dropped the milk but caught it with both hands. A series of strange grunt-like sounds escaped his throat until he finally blurted out, "…_What?_"

Startled by his yell, a few dining customers from the seating area looked at Cloud direction. The Chocobo Chow employee blinked at them and drew quiet. When they returned to their meals, he blew out air from his lungs; relieved he was no longer the center attention.

"C'mon. Don't be shy." Kyle chortled while Cloud's whole face turned to a warmer color. His hazel eyes stayed on him. In a hushed tone, he repeated: "When was the last time you _fucked_?"

"Shut up," Cloud ordered and turned his back to Kyle. The blender came on with the push of a button. He poured a few ounces of milk into the ice cream mix and kept his hand on the metal vase to keep it from spilling.

"Sorry, you just sound so damn… _tense_. That's all. It's almost like you need to unwind with a good blow-job or somethin'." Kyle instinctively ran a tongue across his lips.

Cloud wanted to explode and disappear into a million pieces. He momentarily increased the speed of the blender. It roared louder.

"I guess it can't be helped…" Kyle went on. Bored, he cocked his head to the side and studied Cloud's back. His eyes fell to the buttocks and stayed there. "I heard about your rejection letter from Shinra last month, by the way. That had to suck. This was your third year trying to enlist with those guys. Right? No wonder you're so uptight these days."

"You hear everything, don't you?" Cloud mumbled after he finally lowered the blender's speed.

"Yea, I do," Kyle confessed with a hearty laugh. "I can't help it. I'm very interested in the life of Cloud Strife. That aside… I don't think that's it. Your pent-up tension, I mean. I think there's something else going on. It's why I asked you before: when was the last time you fucked?"

The machine howled again when Cloud deliberately increased the speed. _This_ was the other reason why he couldn't stick around Kyle for too long.

Aside from the inevitable comparisons, it was impossible to have a decent conversation without it turning into a topic about sex. Cloud kept his back to Kyle while he smoothed out the shake. This entire conversation was stupid. His personal life wasn't up for discussion, especially at a place like Chocobo Chow. Besides, it didn't matter if he hadn't been laid for a long time. It wasn't anyone's business. And it wasn't his fault.

His busy work schedule, class, and preps… All of that occupied Cloud's life right now. There was little time for casual sex these days. Sure, there were the quick-fix options. But Cloud felt too embarrassed to visit the Honey Bee Inn or hire a whore from his block. His mother's voice, the same one who constantly warned him to keep away from those dirty city girls, mentally nagged at him. Cloud had learned to settle for self-administered pleasure. On his days off, he jerked off to a good online porno film. Then he'd wash himself in shame just like all the other boys who felt stupid after masturbation.

The act of lust – it often evoked the most bipolar emotions in people.

Admittedly, Cloud's member had gotten sensitive in the past few weeks. It shot up during the most inconvenient times. Early morning jogs. A trip to the corner store. A pretty smile. Bare wrists. Sex _was_ long overdue, Cloud realized. Maybe tonight he'd find someone to fuck, someone to ease him off the edge a bit. He could get lucky. Hopefully. Perhaps. Maybe. God willing.

The machine beeped twice. Cloud pressed a button. The shake was done. He removed the metal container and poured the vanilla milkshake into a medium-sized Styrofoam cup. After slapping on a lid and inserting a straw, he handed it over to Kyle.

"There. Enjoy your milkshake and mosey along."

"Tryin' to get rid of me that bad, eh?" Kyle didn't move from his spot and kept his elbows on the counter. He smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes though. "I make you _that_ uncomfortable?"

Returning the milk back to its original place, Cloud said nothing.

His eyes drawn to the shake in his hands now, Kyle nodded his head. "Fair enough. I know I come off strong sometimes. I just get worried about you sometimes. It's easy to forget the joys of life when everything becomes routine. Believe me: I've been there. You won't find happiness if you're always staying within the dotted lines and doing what others expect of ya."

"My coworkers are taking me somewhere tonight for my birthday," Cloud evenly informed and changed the topic. It was all he could do at this point. "You're welcomed to join us."

Across the counter, the other young man suppressed a low chuckle. Kyle knew what Cloud had just done. However, he didn't appear offended and even expected it. The lively blonde took a long sip of his milkshake and shook his head. "I wish I could, Cloud. But I can't. There's someone I have to meet."

"For business?"

"For pleasure," Kyle corrected with a slight blush. He leaned forward again. "I've been tracking this guy. _Forever_. Originally, Don Corneo wanted me to find out where he lived."

"What for?"

"To put a bullet to his head." The teen snickered loudly, as if it were a joke. He soon explained, "Less people are visiting Don Corneo's whores because of this man and his companions. The Don is super pissed. He fucking hates competition. With this guy… _everyone_ wants to meet him."

"He must be really something…" Cloud expressed in a flat voice, not really interested in the topic anymore. Nearly every crush Kyle had was over a pretty boy. There was a new one every week. It annoyed Cloud. He turned his back to Kyle and washed the metal canister in a nearby sink.

"I sincerely doubt he's handsome," Kyle admitted and stroked his straw with two fingers. "He rarely appears in public. His face must be the most horrendous-looking thing ever."

"_Must be?_ What, you haven't seen his face?"

"Nope. No one has. He wears an extremely long, black-lace veil over himself all the time. He's cloaked entirely in black. One person described him as the bride of Death itself. For all we know, he _is_ Death itself. Who dresses like that anyway?"

Disturbed by the description, Cloud stopped washing the cup in his hand and looked back at Kyle. He couldn't understand this fascination with a strange figure in black. Stalking a man dressed as Death's bride sounded like a terrible idea, especially in light of today's events.

"But that's what makes him so damn interesting," Kyle said, as if reading his mind. "He's a genuine freak of nature. Those who've seen the black-veiled man all declare he walks with the grace of an angel." Kyle temporarily pulled out the straw. He opened his mouth. Vanilla ice cream dripped over his wet tongue.

Cloud set the metal container back to its proper place and grabbed a towel. For a moment, he watched Kyle's mouth; watched him gather white drops. Cloud quickly cast his gaze down. He wiped the counter and murmured, "So I guess you're going on a date with this guy tonight…"

"Ha, I wish." Kyle swallowed. Afterward, he inserted the straw into his cup. "Sadly, he is the most elusive figure in this city. Don Corneo's people can't find him. Even my connections can't track him down."

"I find that hard to believe. Especially for you."

Still bent forward across the counter, Kyle idly caressed the base of his milkshake. His hands moved up and down in a lazy rhythm. "The black-veiled man is a very peculiar guy. He sees only the people he chooses to see."

"He still sounds like a weirdo…"

"I know, right? Even his close companions are just as weird as him. People say they have strange eyes. They can see into your soul with them. Or so the stories say."

Cloud observed Kyle's fingers. He stared at their continuous up-and-down hand motions; transfixed. Eventually, he chided in, "Maybe you should keep away from this guy. If he doesn't want to see people outside of his inner circle, then…"

"No way. Tonight, I'm gonna find this man."

"But…"

Kyle took a deep sip of his milkshake again and later pulled out. His tongue swiped along his lower fat lip before he declared, "I'm gonna meet this man. And I'm gonna fuck him good until he lets me see what he's hiding under that veil. I bet he's got an eye missing with maggots and shit coming out. Or maybe his flesh has rotten off from burnt wounds…"

Amused by his words and vivid imagination, Cloud scoffed. He noticed Kyle's mouth again; noticed the drop of vanilla ice cream there. He missed a spot.

"One of my boyfriends claims he'll be out in the city tonight in search of someone fresh." A well-defined smile shaped Kyle's plush lips. "That's what he does, you know. Every once in a while the black-veiled man appears. He tries to find someone who will peak his interest. Then he invites that person to be bound to him. Isn't that romantic?"

Feeling a bit tired, Cloud yawned. He continued wiping the counter and tried not to look at the drop of vanilla on Kyle's lips.

"If word on the street proves true," the enthused teen resumed, "then I want that special person to be _me_. Even if his face terrifies the shit out of me, it'd be the experience of a lifetime."

Kyle was hopeless at times. Once the fool made up his mind about something, talking any sense to him proved pointless. Cloud eventually shrugged his shoulders and conceded. "Whatever. You can't say I didn't warn you. Just… take it easy, okay?"

Noting the genuine concern in Cloud's voice, a pinkish color spread across Kyle's cheeks. "You're always looking after me. Aren't you? Makes me wonder why you aren't my boyfriend."

"Because I don't eat sausage," Cloud recalled for him. He wiped the area in front of Kyle. His voice sounded low and husky when he said, "You don't know this guy. Be careful tonight. I'll beat the crap out of him if he hurts you. Then I'll beat the crap out of _you_ for being an idiot."

The smile on Kyle's face turned to a toothy grin. Quickly, he leaned forward across the counter and planted a wet kiss on Cloud's mouth. It lasted only a second. Kyle pulled back before the other boy could react to it. He looked down at his milkshake afterward. "Hm, this shit actually tastes good…"

The white dot on Kyle's lips was gone now.

On the other side of the counter, Cloud abruptly stood at full height. His hand reactively wanted to touch the moist spot Kyle left behind. He decided against it. Cloud didn't want to draw attention to the counter. His eyes scanned the restaurant. He hoped none of the customers saw what just happened. Thankfully, no one did. Except the two boys in the booth. They sat on the same side now. Both looked back at him with amused expressions on their faces. They turned away a second later and exchanged a heated kiss.

"Have you ever tried the vanilla milkshake before?" the other blonde curiously asked.

Cloud took a step away from the counter but closely observed Kyle. The laid-back teenager smiled at him. Then he pushed the straw deep into his mouth. Soft pink lips wrapped around the thin piece of plastic. Kyle's hands stayed at the base of the cup while he swallowed.

"They're really good," Kyle commended in between sips. Each time he drank, his throat's apple bobbed. It was a smooth, steady rhythm. "I've had plenty of them."

The restaurant's cheery music continued to play in the background while Cloud watched thick loads of vanilla stream down Kyle's throat. Pink lips squeezed the straw harder. They produced quiet slurping noises. Cloud gripped the towel in his hands tighter.

Moments later, Kyle's mouth pulled out with a loud smack-like sound. A bit of ice cream squirted out. It slowly dripped down the straw's side. Kyle exhaled. He'd been holding his breath the entire time. His tongue suddenly lashed out. The slithery muscle slid up and down the length of the straw. Eagerly, he lapped up the chunky white drops. His pierced tongue flicked at the top end of the straw. Kyle paused from his current actions. Hazel eyes tilted up at Cloud.

Cloud hadn't moved from his spot.

A satisfied Kyle wiped his mouth with a finger. Shortly after, he confessed, "Chocolate, Strawberry, and Vanilla are my favorite. I just love the flavor of a good milkshake. Don't you?"

Cloud wiped his sweaty palms on the towel. As he listened to Kyle ramble on about milkshakes, he knew this had nothing to do with milkshakes.

"I love the feel of ice cream sliding down my throat," Kyle said. Trimmed nails glided along the body of his milkshake's bulky container. "So smooth. So milky. I can drink it up all day; fill my belly with it."

Silently, Cloud watched Kyle's hands. They fondled and explored the plastic texture of his medium-size foam cup. A part of Cloud wanted to kill the street rat right now. He imagined popping his balls and tossing him off the Plate. Anything to shut him up. But there was something else that lingered beneath this initial animosity. Even as Cloud struggled to understand what it was, a warm sensation crawled down the pit of his stomach.

The air grew hotter. Observing Kyle's lips, Cloud found himself imagining it filled with clumps of rich, sugary milk. The corners of those pretty, plush lips leaked with white lines. He thought about Kyle choking on sticky vanilla cream. And he imagined him gasping for more.

Cloud took a deep breath, a bit surprised by his absurd thoughts. His attention swayed back to the two boys kissing in the booth. Their wet tongues clashed; arms wrapped around the other. In front of them was an empty glass of their milkshake. Finished. A curious thought crossed Cloud's mind. He wondered if the flavor on their lips tasted of salty saliva and sweet vanilla. An interesting combination.

"You should try a milkshake yourself if you haven't already, Cloud," Kyle suggested with a smile. "Who knows? You may like it as much as I do."

Cloud turned his back to him. He felt too awkward to meet his eyes or talk to him right now. As he stood facing a machine, though, Cloud licked his lips. The single drop of vanilla ice cream Kyle had given during their kiss reached his tongue. Cloud's brows pulled toward each other. That salty, sweet flavor… it wasn't too bad. He sucked on his lower lip a bit more. The tender muscle between his legs, meanwhile, stirred half-awake. It curled right along his left inner thigh.

Somewhere nearby, a Chocobo chirped nonstop. As if laughing at him. Cloud's eyes narrowed. He really needed to get laid tonight.


	6. Blue

**Author's Note:** _ Four veeery familiar faces. This story is heavily inspired by 'The Lost Boys', a great cult classic that knew how to showcase dark pretty things. Warnings: drug usage._

* * *

CHAPTER 5: Blue

Blue. There was blue everywhere. Somewhere, a high-pitched siren wailed, bouncing off blue-tinted glassed walls where patterned fish swam. Beams of blue light radiated from the ceiling high above. They flickered in half-second intervals. Flash – _blue_. Flash – _blue_. Flash – _blue_. Within the darkness that swallowed Cloud, glimpses of blue faces appeared. Dark figures surrounded him; an endless sea of blue silhouettes. Here. There. Everywhere. Abdominal muscles reactively clenched at the sight of open-mouthed hysteric grins and awkward body movements. The figures danced like stop-motioned puppets amongst the flashes of blue light.

Breathe. Cloud needed to breathe.

His pale skin shined against the blue auras that surrounded him. A few beads of sweat streaked along the sides of his face; matted blond hair clung to his sticky forehead. He must've smelled terrible. Cloud exhaled through parted, chapped lips. When he took a deep swallow afterward, he made a face. The back of his throat tasted funny, a bitter raspberry flavor. No doubt, it was remnants of his last drink, some pleasant mixture of tangy fruit and burning vodka.

Cloud stared at his feet to briefly escape the onslaught of shadowy images that appeared and disappeared in the darkness. The glassed blue floor rippled with a watery effect. An illusion. Transfixed by it, Cloud stared at the shimmery ground until his eyes throbbed with a dull pressure. When he finally looked up again, he grimaced. Those terrible dark figures… they danced more chaotically now.

Club LIFESTREAM. The popular night club was situated inside a giant, donut-shaped aquarium; the largest of its kind. Designed with two stories, the bottom floor featured a dance platform flanked by two separated, semi-circled pools. Blue leather-cushioned seats and neon-lit booths ran alongside curved walls. Downstairs was also home to the club's bar. Casting glows of blue and pink, it was situated inside a massive cylindrical-shaped tank. Two squid-shaped robots served as the club's bartenders. Their multiple arms simultaneously mixed drinks and passed them to the waiters.

Not far from the bar appeared two illuminated staircases guarded by bouncers. The steps led to a members-only second floor. Upstairs, the live band played. Donned in vintage-styled coats, top hats, and monocles, their electric sounds of guitars, sirens, drums, and saxophone boomed loudly in the air. Giant jellyfish lanterns, meanwhile, hung from the ceiling. They glowed with a wild spectrum of rainbow hues. Four-dimensional projected images of sea creatures floated alongside them in the air.

Club attendees pumped their hips and arms to the wave of synthetic melodies. The more ambitious dancers wore scantily-clad swimsuits in spirit of their watery environment. Similarly, the club's hired performers showcased provocative scuba-dive suits with faces covered in metal-plated masks. Their rubber suits were fully decked out with lights. Dangling from the high ceiling with bungee cords, the acrobatic aerial entertainers spun in circles in the air. They offered the crowd an impressive light show.

Standing near the club's pool, Cloud stared up at one airborne dancer above his head with the same fascination of a child. He watched streaks of blue and green light flush in various directions.

Beautiful, simply beautiful.

A heavy musk lingered in the air, a mixture of sweat and perfume. Clusters of attractive men and women clashed their moist bodies against each other in giant waves. Cloud Strife tried to keep his distance. He wasn't usually into the club scene. He didn't have the energy or Gil for it. And he rarely drank or used chemical substances, except on the special occasions he wanted to indulge himself. His knowledge of dance was also limited to the old-fashioned steps his mother taught him as a boy. Hardly fitting. However, it was really vanity-related issues that kept Cloud away from Midgar's nightlife.

He didn't own any flashy clothes. He couldn't compete with all the handsome city boys with his second-hand assortments. Even now, his attire proved inappropriate. Whereas Ele', Biggs, and Wedge had brought a different set of clothes for the birthday outing, he had none. Too embarrassed to show the beautiful people in the club his Chocobo Chow uniform, Cloud kept his coat on. Now he was soaking in sweat.

Cloud felt his stomach twist and turn while the sides of his head throb. An urge to vomit grew strong in his belly. It wasn't just the amount of alcohol he had consumed that bothered him, but the overwhelming heat that emanated from the large crowd on the dance floor with him. He inhaled slowly to subdue the unwanted sensation. No doubt the heavy amount of visual stimuli and fast movements triggered many symptoms related to his motion sickness. The club, itself, reflected a chaotic environment of lights, sounds, and movement.

When the club's current song reached a high mid-point, the sprinklers in the club all activated. Water sprayed the dance floor. People screamed and hollered in rejoice. Cloud wanted to retreat to a dry area but Ele' soon approached from his left. Somehow she found him in this heap of mess. His coworker joined him for a dance. Cloud was ready to reject the offer, feeling unsure of his abilities, but Ele' wrapped her arms around his waist anyway. She pressed their bodies together. Dressed in a rather risqué outfit, two budding nipples poked out of her soaked blouse. Heat rose on Cloud's cheeks.

"Not a bad way to spend your birthday, huh?" Ele' remarked over the music. She opened her mouth to drink some of the water that rained on them.

Feeling thirsty himself, Cloud did the same. He blinked through the drops of water that fell over his eyes and found two holographic sharks directly above them. They circled around each other.

Not far away Cloud spotted Wedge and Biggs. Wedge clumsily stepped on the foot of some random woman while Biggs fared better. He had brought along a female friend to the birthday get-together.

Cloud had met the girl several times before. With long brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, Jessie worked as a mechanic in the Slums. She had a knack at building engines from scraps. A bit of a tomboy, she wore a simple gray tank with suspenders and dark jeans. Cloud always thought Jessie was strange. She rarely talked. On the occasions she appeared, he often caught her looking at him with an odd, unblinking expression on her face. Tonight was no different. Even as she danced with Biggs, Jessie studied him with those big chestnut brown eyes of hers.

"Biggs mentioned you don't commute to the Entertainment District often," Ele' spoke again. One hand lazily swept the side of her drenched purple-dyed hair. "We figured this would be a nice place to celebrate your birthday. Of course, Wedge wanted to take you to a strip joint instead."

Cloud made a throaty sound but later confirmed, "It's pretty expensive in this sector. I think I've visited the Entertainment District only three times."

"It's nice to have an excuse to come back, right?"

He nodded and then slowly inquired, "You live near this sector?"

"Mm-hm. But it's also expensive for me. I'm on a tight budget. Working, while wrapping up my final year in high school, isn't a walk in the park."

Cloud nearly paused in the middle of their dance. He remembered Ele's father. He taught in Shinra's Military Academy. Curious, he wondered aloud, "You don't get help from your old man?"

At this, Ele' licked her blue-painted lips. "No. I live in my own apartment, away from the folks."

"But… wouldn't it be easier to stay with them? You wouldn't have to work and go to school."

"My pop's an asshole." Ele' practically growled. "He thinks he can control my life just like he did with my sister. I'm supposed to enter the Academy this year after I graduate from high school. But I want to follow my own damn path. I'm tired of my father deciding things for me. I'm not my sister."

Cloud briefly broke away from eye contact.

He wasn't sure whether to sympathize with Ele' or resent her. Those who entered the Academy were automatically qualified for a high-ranking position in Shinra's army or the Turks. Cloud couldn't enroll in the Academy himself because he lacked a general education certificate. Worse, the school only accepted top-notched applicants with high scores. Ele' practically rode on a free ticket. Daddy issues aside, she lived on the Plate and had all the necessary credentials and connections. Many career opportunities were opened for her. As for Cloud, he was a hick who lived in a shit-hole and had failed the try-outs three times.

The darkness of the club helped mask Cloud's solemn mood. Water drops fell while the two resumed their awkward dance.

They lost themselves to the steady beats of steampunk metal music. That special type of eclectic funk intrigued Cloud. He didn't know any relevant dance steps but, in the end, it didn't matter. He followed Ele's cue and forgot all the bitter shit that cluttered his mind. Cloud's eyes drifted back to the beams of light above. A light-headed sensation washed over him and nearly made him stumble off balance. No doubt, the shots he had drunk earlier now took their toll. Ele' softly laughed and held him in place.

"This is our time to shine, you know," her voice reached his ears again. There was a serious, monotone vibe in her sound.

Cloud stared at her.

"We're at the turn of our youth," the young woman professed, "This moment won't ever happen again. Tonight, we celebrate our immortality. Let's make the best of it. Okay?"

Cloud clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He wasn't sure if her words were inspirational or cheesy. But they did make a lot of sense. He had reached that period in his life when he could commit to the giant unknown without worry or restraint. Only seventeen, there was plenty of time to own the world. However. The dream he wanted still remained out of reached. Worse, that window of opportunity was closing. Fast. Perhaps, if only for tonight, he could pretend to be immortal. He could feel fierce. Hell, he could even feel optimistic for once in his damn life.

Water droplets continued to fall from above. An onslaught of purple and blue lights washed over the dance floor. Hundreds of bodies jumped up and down, moving in tune with the fast-paced tempo. Cloud kept up with Ele'. Both thrust their hips forward, one leg between the other. Grinding. He saw her place a blue pill on the tip of her tongue. Ele' wrapped both arms around his neck and brought his face down to hers. As they kissed, she passed the pill into his mouth. Their faces pulled away a moment later and Cloud swallowed.

Gradually, his body felt lighter. He could hardly feel his feet planted to the ground; he was flying. The two teens twirled in circles on the dance floor and raised their hands in the air. Laughing. Smiling. Cloud closed his eyes, feeling ecstatic now. He allowed himself to become one with the music and crowd. The dark blue figures that flashed about no longer terrified him.

When the sprinklers finally deactivated and the crowd settled down. A few attendees left the dance floor to dry themselves. Cloud considered doing the same, especially when his heavy coat was soaked. A young man dressed in a fancy suit bumped into him though.

Holding a PHS in his hand, the man ignored Cloud and handed out business cards to a pair of women dancing nearby. He offered one to Ele' before he moved on. Cloud made a face. He felt aggressive enough to punch the guy.

"Something wrong?" Ele' noticed his sour expression.

Cloud's eyes tracked the rude young man who walked away. "Who the hell _are_ those guys?"

"Huh?" Ele' checked the direction of Cloud's glare. "Oh. Them. "

"Yeah. _Them_." He shook his head and spat, "I see them everywhere. All they do is walk around, carry a PHS, and pass out business cards. Are they Turks? Musicians? Businessmen?"

"They're Hosts."

"Hosts?" Cloud repeated. "Like… _dinner_ hosts?"

Ele' blinked a few times and took a step back. Hand on hip, she chortled. "You mean to tell me you've been in this city for _how long_ and don't know what Hosts are? Wow…"

"Give me a break. I spend most of my time down at the Slums." Cloud turned his face away from Ele', feeling annoyed. He found Jessie nearby looking at him again. The strange girl quickly stared at her feet when he caught her.

"Fair enough," Ele' finally said and showed Cloud the card given to her. "They're paid boyfriends."

One of Cloud's brows rose. "_Excuse_ me?"

"They're boys hired for love."

Cloud stood silent again. He was positive he misheard Ele'. When she maintained her silence, though, he abruptly burst out laughing. A bit carried away by his drug-induced state, he had trouble controlling his erratic thoughts and emotions. When Cloud calmed down again he checked the glossy card she held up for him.

He found a name, a phone number, an address, and a photo of a handsome man who wore more mascara and hair products than the average woman. The name of a club was stenciled in generic, Gothic-styled silver letters. Cloud shook his head._ Paid boyfriends?_

Ele' must've seen the confusion on his face. She soon explained, "Hundreds of Hosts reside in Midgar. All those men you see passing out cards, they're affiliated with a _club_. The client contacts them for a get-together. Then the Host takes them to their club for a fun time. Anyone with Gil to burn can hire them to be their boyfriend for the day, week… however long."

"Hired boyfriends?" Cloud spoke each word slowly. "Paid love. That's… kind of fucked up."

"Midgar is a busy metropolis, Cloud. A lotta business men and women don't have time to look for love. This method is easier for them. It's love without the strings. Besides, when you think about it, you're paying for love anyway. Taking out a girl to the movies, buying her flowers, giving her an engagement ring… Love comes with a price tag no matter where you get it from."

Cloud ran a hand through his damped blond hair. He still couldn't fathom this surreal city-born concept. Paid love. It sounded so… _wrong_. Cloud finally concluded, "So, these Hosts are basically male gigolos."

"Kinda. It's a platonic relationship. No sex is involved. At least, that's how it should go." Ele' shoved the business card underneath her bra strap and elaborated, "Ideally, the Host provides _the dream_ to their client. They're there to listen, talk, and have a fun time. Not to fuck."

"I really doubt that…"

"Hosts are like giant cock-teasers," Ele' strongly exerted, "They'll flirt and maybe get a bit physical to plant the _illusion_ to their clients that they have a chance. But they won't give it up. They want their clients desperate and coming back for more."

"Giant cock-teasers…" Cloud quoted, already scoffing at the idea. He absently stared at a family of fish swimming along the glassed walls up ahead. Curious, he asked, "And where are the clubs? In the city?"

"They're scattered everywhere, but most are here in the Entertainment District," Ele' confirmed and later went on to say, "Visitors can enter them any time. Potential clients will receive a compendium that showcases all the club's Hosts. From that list, they get to choose which Host matches their tastes. They hook up to determine if they're compatible. For many clubs, once the client has made a choice there's no going back, so the guest has to choose their Host wisely."

"But wouldn't it be easier to fall in love with the right person? Naturally?"

"Depends. Not everyone can meet the _right_ person." Amused by Cloud's reaction to this entire topic, Ele' grinned. She leaned forward and shared a short, sloppy kiss with him.

When their faces pulled away another dizzy spell hit Cloud. He almost fell backward. Ele' laughed at him again. As before, she kept him steady with both hands. He was a bit high. And drunk. Or was he buzzed? Cloud couldn't tell. His liquor toleration and knowledge of drunken states was extremely limited. Hell, he hadn't experienced a hangover so far. Biggs expressed an annoyance toward _cotton-mouth_ but Cloud had no idea what the fuck he meant. Regardless, it was a good thing he had tomorrow off. If he ended up shit-faced tonight at least he could sleep it off before attending his evening class.

His legs unsteady, Cloud's eyes wandered about the busy dance floor. All the blinking lights and dark dancing figures continued to aggravate his delicate senses. He could feel the acidic tastes of liquor lurk up his throat. Cloud swallowed hard and looked at Ele'. "I… I need to take a breather. Maybe to puke. Maybe to pass out. Maybe to piss. I don't know which yet."

"It's fine." Ele' chuckled. To her, Cloud sounded funny whenever he got a little drunk or high. "Let's find a table and chill there. You can decide then."

Ele' took his arm to guide him out of the dance floor. However, Cloud gently pushed her hand away when his stomach's muscles abruptly jerked. He covered his mouth with both hands. Cloud's face turned to a lighter shade of pink when he muffled, "Give me a moment… If I move right now I'll _definitely_ puke."

Ele' nodded in understanding. "All right. No prob. I'll secure a table first. Then I'll come fetch you. Just stay here. Okay? I'll call if I can't find you so keep your PHS close by."

Still covering his mouth with both hands, Cloud bobbed his head in compliance.

Reassuring him, Ele' squeezed his shoulder. Then she headed off. She had the others follow her as well. Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie all joined the search for a table. Club LIFESTREAM was packed tonight. There were hardly any spots left to sit. Cloud knew it would take them awhile to find a table or booth. He felt guilty he couldn't help.

Briefly, the blond-haired teenager shut his eyes and mentally scolded himself. Cloud hated being a burden to anyone. He also hated his weak, pathetic state right now. It threatened to ruin tonight's celebration. He'd have to take it easy the rest of tonight. He had heard how some susceptible people passed out from drinking beyond their limit. Worse, they would forget the events that had transpired. Biggs called it a black-out. Cloud hoped he didn't fit under that category of drinkers.

Once the muscles in his belly slightly relaxed, he forced himself to bend forward and rested his hands on the knees. He stayed like that for a good few minutes. Cloud didn't move from his spot by the pool since Ele' would return to this spot after she secured a table.

The silhouettes of nearby dancers hadn't stopped moving nor did the flashes of neon-fused lights. Aerial performers twirled in the air; a fusion of swift movement and glowing colors. Cloud could not focus on them anymore. Their non-stop motions made his head hurt. The music from the live band upstairs, meanwhile, turned into a sultry type of sound. With a bit of an experimental touch, the lead singer sung in a low raspy voice. He was accompanied by a steady beat of drums, chimes, the soft plucks of a guitar, and a lonely saxophone. The song provided the perfect soundtrack for electric hot sex, Cloud mused, feeling aroused at the moment.

Cloud continued to stay put until he caught something peculiar among the crowd of dark figures. Blue. A very intense blue. Tiny specks of blue. It was a blue unlike any shade of blue in the club. Even when the dance floor was briefly engulfed in total darkness, those dots of blue remained. Cloud slowly stood at full height. It wasn't just the blue color that threw him off guard. They weren't lights. They weren't reflections. They weren't figments from his imagination. As Cloud studied the strange phenomenon, he realized they were something else altogether.

Three figures. They currently stalked the dance floor. Their tall forms were mere shadows at first, like the other attendees. However, as they approached the pool area directly opposite of Cloud the water's light illuminated their features. Cloud stood completely still.

One of them sported raven-black, spiked hair. Dressed in a worn-out fatigue jacket with a tight-fitted undershirt and loose cargo pants, chains and belts all over, his style was both wild and furious. The boy walked through the crowd of dancers and took a high-voltage puff from his e-cigarette. A stray wolf, Cloud thought. Spikes of black hair was pulled back to reveal a face void of unwanted blemishes and details, save for a curious cross-shaped scar at the bottom left cheek. Both ears were littered with metal piercings. Cloud found himself perplexed by the youth's eyes.

Blue. Those bizarre, starry blue eyes… That's what immediately caught Cloud's attention. That's what lingered among the crowd of shadowed figures. That's what glowed. The boy's blue eyes. They were like blue-tinted mirrors. Even within the darkness, they shined. Eye contacts, Cloud quickly concluded. They had to be. No human being could possess eyes like that. Even the Tsviets' eyes were nowhere near that level of glow.

Fake or not, the strange boy still carried a powerful and piercing gaze. Nearby dancers noticed it. They stepped out of his way. Some out of fear. Some out of captivation.

Upstairs, the saxophone reached a high note. Its sound ricocheted across the entire club. While the crowd cheered, the boy took another inhale. The tiny light in his e-cig flared. Cloud held his breath. The raven-haired teen briefly glanced at his direction. He looked him dead in the eye. Blue against brilliant-blue. Cloud grew even more anxious by those eyes.

The boy was similar to age. Maybe a year or two older. Yet, those blue eyes reflected someone well beyond his years. They shared the same clear intensity of an elderly man who had seen more than his share of the world. A half innocent, half devilish smile tugged at the corner of the other boy's lips. And then… he looked away. The mysterious youth walked onward and ignored the rest of his onlookers.

More blue followed. The second figure. Many years older with shaggy black hair that reached down to his neck, this man stood a few inches taller and featured a more notable frame. Well-built arms. Strong shoulders. Cloud imagined this guy could give Mr. Mukki a serious challenge. However, there was a calm quality beneath the physically indestructible facade.

With naked hands buried inside the pockets of his denim jeans, he maintained a steady and even pace. Cloud could tell the man self-groomed. A patch of hair outlined a proud chiseled chin, yet parts of it looked slightly uneven. Even the thick sideburns that outlined a perfect structure of cheekbones hadn't been cut to fine, thin tips. Still, the imperfections worked. It was a modest yet chic look. This was a confident man; one who didn't resort to high-fashion methods to get noticed. The long-sleeved, gray-blue buttoned shirt highlighted the bizarre color in his eyes. Likewise, the hand-stitched navy vest. A handcrafted choker made of ivory bones decorated his neck. Only his auburn-orange flat shoes offered a splash of warmth to his overall attire.

That strange arrangement of loud musical notes upstairs inspired more energy in the crowd. Bodies moved faster. Rays of colorful lights from above rotated in all directions.

Two female dancers took an interest toward the unique stranger and approached him. But he merely acknowledged them with a simple nod and moved on. His starry blue eyes were set to the club's upper floor. Looking like a man on a mission, he never glanced at anyone and kept to himself.

Cloud watched him drift deeper into the crowd. Then he set his sights on the third man of the group.

He was an auburn-haired gentleman of good height, sporting a sharp figure. Cloud's jaw danced a bit. The vibe he got from this guy was definitely different: direct and bold. Even more, the intensity of the man's eerie eyes burned brighter. Angrier. Within the darkness of the club, they were absolutely terrifying.

An air of silent but prominent confidence surrounded him. This was a man who took pride in his appearance; a man of high stature. Unlike the others, he reveled in extravagance and aristocratic fashion with his tailored vest, leather red trousers, and knee-high leather boots that were wiped to a shine. A crimson coat sprouted rich, brown fur at the collar. The duster reached down to his ankles; its split tail trailed after him as he strutted forward with his head raised. In a gloved hand, Cloud spotted two items: a book and a rose. The handsome man kept both at his side. Never once did he acknowledge the people who stared at him. His brilliant blue eyes stayed ahead. They never looked back.

It was strange. As a country boy, it'd taken Cloud awhile to get used to the odd residents in the city. Three years of occupancy introduced him to the Punks, the Goths, the Metal-heads, the Preppies, the Hipsters, the Thugs, the Ghettoes, the Straights, the Gays, the Trans, and countless more. There were so many niches and flavors in the city. But Cloud had never encountered people like _them_. These men didn't fit under any categories. Cloud couldn't help but feel drawn to their magnetic powers. They were frightening. And beautiful. Beauty and beast wrapped into one.

Caught in a trance, Cloud took several steps forward. He suspected the three blue-eyed visitors were headed to the staircases. Second floor. The exclusive level. The teen moved left once they disappeared more into the crowd.

Cloud didn't notice how close he stood to the ledge of the pool. Too occupied by the pretty blue-eyed men, he carelessly advanced another step. He wanted to keep them in his line of sight for a moment longer. But then… His body abruptly tilted to one side. Nothing held him in place. Off-balanced, Cloud quickly glanced down. He saw only blue water directly below. He gaped. Eyes wild. Realization hit and both arms flailed about, struggling for counter balance. One foot remained on the ledge but it was too late. Too much of him had shifted toward the pool. He felt his body give way. Cloud fell toward the water.

That was when something latched onto him. Something dark. Something fast.

The movement was instant; Cloud barely registered a slender-shaped, gloved hand wrapped around his right wrist. Already, Cloud's whole body had fallen to a side angle. He held his breath and blinked several times. Shocked. Nauseous. Anxious. He stared wide-eyed at the glowing pool of water below. Cloud's right foot stayed pressed against the ledge of the pool though. This, and the hand that held onto his right wrist, was enough to keep him from dropping.

Exhaling loudly, Cloud turned his head back. He needed to acknowledge the wonderful person who had somehow miraculously caught him in time and prevented his fall. But the air in his throat stopped midway when he looked back. His skin turned ice-cold. Cloud suddenly wanted to drop in the pool and desperately escape. A tall creature covered in black layers stood at the ledge of the pool. Motionless. Silent. It looked like Death itself.

Everything about him was covered in black. Black shoulder epaulettes. A long black tailored coat that reached passed the knees. Black collared, buttoned blouse. Silk black tie. Black leather pants. Gloss-black shoes. Black gloves. Everything. Black and more black. As for the face, an extremely long, black-laced veil covered it. The thin material extended all the way to the lower back of the figure. With a lean physique, Cloud only knew this was a man by the lack of breasts and prominent shoulder frame. But that didn't surprise him as much as this man's _aura_. It caused the tiny hairs at the back of his neck to rise.

There was something about this man, about this _being_, that made him unworldly. Practically intangible. He screamed neither modesty nor vanity. He existed on a different plane altogether, emitting only a loud silence in Cloud's presence.

Dangling over the water, the boy felt both vulnerable and curious. The striking image of this nocturnal animal evoked a thought in Cloud. A recollection, rather. Kyle. Kyle had mentioned a man in a veil earlier today. Cloud wondered if this was that same man. Before the question could be explored, though, the dark figure suddenly pulled him up.

This guy… He was _strong_. Yanked so hard, Cloud almost feared his arm had been ripped out of its socket. But the brute force proved necessary. Had it been any lesser gravity would've done its worse, especially at his steep angle. As it was, the sheer momentum was enough to tip Cloud over to the other side without slipping or falling back to the water. His body helplessly flung the opposite way. He clashed head-on into the tall figure and nearly collapsed until two gloved hands held him at his waist. Once again, he prevented Cloud's fall.

Sirens wailed across the club and the music's tempo picked up. Again, those flashes of light engulfed everyone in blue. Their distorted faces flickered everywhere. Cloud had warped himself into hell and now met the Devil himself.

With a cheek pressed against the other man's chest, he momentarily froze. He could feel a strong, steady heartbeat thump against his ear. A part of him was surprised by the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air. The scent dominated the dark, tall figure. Cloud half-expected an offending smell, something like rotten meat or spoiled fruit. Maggots came to mind. Burnt scars. Decaying flesh. All sorts of horrible thoughts inspired by Kyle's words lingered inside Cloud's head. But the elegant beast smelled appealing. Inviting. Upon closer inspection of his attire, Cloud could observe the fine delicate details of floral designs sewn across his Goth-styled coat. It smelled of expensive leather.

Perfect monster indeed.

Granted, natural instinct demanded a swift retreat. Cloud's cheeks rushed with color. This stranger evoked more terrifying feelings and thoughts than the previous blue-eyed men. Chemical madness within the veins only heightened those sensations of dread. But even as Cloud's heart pounded against his chest and all sense of reason wanted him to leave, he stayed put. His druggy condition made it difficult to take tonight's consequences seriously. Inner morbid curiosities also grew stronger at the sight the daunting creature.

And so, Cloud looked up. Fearless. Tonight, he could pretend to be invincible. Immortal. His clear blue eyes, amplified by the shimmery waters of the pool nearby, stared at the man in black. It was the same stare he gave the wolf many years ago. They did not blink nor waver.

A curious thing happened soon afterward. Up until now, the veiled man had not moved; did not speak. Both hands grasped Cloud's waist, still keeping him in place. But one gloved hand finally strayed. It moved to the boy's chin and lifted the head higher, as if to inspect something of interest there. Cloud realized what it was.

Blue. His own icy blue eyes. The veiled man wanted to see them.

Time crawled to a halt. Both men studied each other's features. While the club rejoiced in a crescendo of saxophone notes and violent beatings of drums, the two locked themselves in another world. Stillness swallowed the intimate space between them. For Cloud, he felt even more vulnerable. His throat was fully exposed as he looked up and the tall man's height practically bore down at him.

Black velvet cloth enshrouded his universe. It was difficult to see through the meshing of the veil. Briefly, Cloud thought he saw a spark of lime-green light hidden within the black covering. A glint. It could've been a reflection though. Or his eyes playing tricks. Cloud wanted to lean closer for a better look, even when his body was already pressed against the man.

A sharp, beckoning whistle abruptly sounded from behind. It snapped Cloud out of his daze. Turning, he discovered one of the blue-eyed men there. The young wolf. He stood only a few feet away; the e-cig still between his lips. Lights from the club painted his flawless face with multiple colors. The blue light in his eyes illuminated consistently.

On closer look, Cloud noticed a few turquoise highlights and patterned feathers that had been threaded into his hair at one side. It gave him a primitive, raw look. The other two blue-eyed men, meanwhile, were up ahead. Both had also stopped. Their eyes shimmered from a distance. Blue, Cloud thought again. The color blue.

Like before, the raven-haired boy directly looked at him. It was a longer gaze this time, as if he were studying him in greater detail. Cloud felt caught. He stood between two forces of nature. Overwhelmed. But that wasn't the only thing that rattled him.

Glancing back at the tall figure next to him, Cloud realized he was in the arms of another man. A _man_. Bizarre as he was, he was still a man. Cloud's eyes shot down to the floor. The color on his face flushed brightly. Kyle's words mentally echoed back to him in mocking manner._ Have you ever been with a guy?_ _Have you ever tried the vanilla milkshake before?_

Embarrassment took over. A sickening feeling of self-loathe boiled within Cloud. Reactively, he pulled away and stepped back. He breathed a bit harder. The veiled man brought his hands to the sides. He calmly turned his head away and glanced at the direction of the raven-haired boy.

By this time, the youth removed the cig from his mouth. He took a step forward; the chimes of his belts jingled. "Yo. Gotta vamoose. They're waiting for us, tops."

That was all the boy said as he stood and waited. His face tilted to one side while he watched Cloud again. Lips wrapped tightly around the cigarette and the boy's prominent brows drew together. Concern painted his blue eyes.

Death's bride walked forward without a word. The tall figure passed Cloud and folded his arms together behind him. Moving with the grace of a feline, each step was smooth, effortless, and defined. No common man walked like that, Cloud thought. For something so trivial and common, he conveyed pure perfection in his walk. It was a form of art.

Admittedly, Cloud felt a tad disappointed when the haunting creature joined the other boy. They stood side-by-side and approached the two blue-eyed men straight ahead. Together, they cut through the crowd of moving bodies like apparitions.

It wasn't until Cloud felt a hand on his shoulder that he realized Ele' was with him again. Standing to his right, her eyes stayed glued to the veiled figure that walked further and further away. She quickly snatched Cloud's hand.

"C'mon. Let's join the others," she urged.

Around this time, the live band committed to a different song; something more mellow. Romantic. The excitement in the club died down. Couples gathered and occupied the dance floor. Cloud followed Ele'. They passed through a holographic image of an octopus floating in the air. The boy felt numb, somehow out of synch with the world. It was as if he had an encounter with a ghost. In some ways, he did. Cloud's eyes shot back to the veiled man while Ele' dragged him to their new destination.


	7. Paint it Black

**Author's Note:** _Drug usage, sexual situations, and a disturbing scene in this chapter. Enter at your peril!_

* * *

CHAPTER 6: Paint It Black

By now, the group of four peculiar men had reached the club's illuminated stairs. They were led by the man in black. Against the pale light of the stairs, his presence became more pronounced. His long black veil flowed behind him, gliding softly in the air with each step he ascended. It was a striking image made more magnificent than a white virgin bride on her wedding day. Cloud continued to hold his breath as he watched him. He saw the bouncers on the second floor quickly step aside when he reached the top stair. All four men entered the exclusive part of Club LIFESTREAM.

"Holy shit, I didn't expect to see him here," Ele' expressed beside Cloud, breaking up his thoughts. Up until they reached the other side of the club, she hadn't spoken a word. Quietly, she said, "He really _is_ strange. I thought he was going to murder you or something."

Cloud turned to Ele' as they continued walking away. She seemed familiar with the veiled man in black. "You know him?"

"Personally? No. But I know _of_ him." She steered them to the bar area and added, "He hardly comes out in the public. When he does, though, he always wears a black veil."

"Why? What for?"

Ele' shook her head and quickened her pace. "We'll talk more at the booth. Just standing out here with that weird guy on the prowl gives me the creeps."

Cloud kept silent after that. He didn't blame Ele'. His own nerves were shot up. Already, sweat gathered at the palms of his hands. Cloud wondered how he let himself get taken away by the dark man's allure. Worse, he invited it in.

His mother used to joke about him being a weird, demented kid sometimes. She was right. During trips to Nibelheim's forest, he'd encountered half-eaten, rotten corpses of animals. Unlike the other children he had never screamed. Observing their bloody entrails and stone-like empty gazes, he'd debate about the delicate nature between life and death instead. Cloud suspected what always drew him toward the disturbed and obscene. However, he quickly shoved the unpleasant thought aside when he finally arrived at a green neon-lit booth.

It was a few feet away from the bar. Providing an excellent view of the second floor above, their booth lined against the metal rails that divided the seating area from the dance floor. A large number of attendees had gathered and waited for their drinks. Some danced while others consumed various substances. Cloud walked around two bikini-clad women in the middle of kissing and fondling. He found Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie already at the booth.

Cloud slid into an empty spot just as Ele' took her place at the opposite end. Biggs was in the middle of dividing lines of blue dust on the black-glassed table when he looked up and noticed the arrivals.

"Man, you look like shit," he described with a loud snicker, having no idea what had rattled Cloud.

From across the table, Jessie stared. There was a worried expression on her face, as if she sensed something amiss with Cloud. But as usual she said nothing.

"How about a round of drinks?" Sitting next to Cloud, Wedge presented a large smile on his face. Before he could gather a general consensus, his fingers were already clicking on several options from a digital interface menu that popped up on their glassed table. "Let's get this party started!"

The group verbally agreed. Cloud quietly massaged the sides of his head but wasn't opposed to the idea. His stomach had settled down, yet the encounter with the black-veiled man still got under his skin. He remained on edge.

When their waiter arrived at the table to confirm orders and ages, Cloud showed him his ID code. Great news came when their server offered him free drinks for tonight on account of his birthday. The seventeen-year-old teenager nodded his thanks.

"Bring out the cake too," Ele' requested to the waiter.

After the server left to fetch their drinks, Cloud turned to her. "Cake?"

"Yea, idiot," Biggs joked and tapped on the blue dust faster with a plastic card. "It wouldn't be a birthday without a birthday cake, right?"

"I handed it to the bartender while you were dancing," Wedge revealed. "I told them to keep it in the bar's fridge until we were ready. It's a triple layered, lavish chunky-chocolate cake, lined by a vanilla stripping with crunchy delectable hazelnuts and cocoa-flavored sprinkles; a serious treat and threat for the taste buds, son."

Wedge's mouth practically drooled while he described the cake. Biggs and Ele' laughed and clapped, clearly impressed. Jessie shyly smiled. Cloud, himself, nodded in approval and looked forward to it.

Waiting for their drinks, the group engaged in trivial conversation. Biggs had finally finished dividing the blue dust and offered everyone a line. Cloud was the last to sniff his up. He wiped his nose with a finger afterward and settled comfortably against his seat. The scenery around him warped into a collection of blurred shapes and colors. Everything and everyone moved more slowly. The sounds of music and non-stop chatter became muffled. He could hear the low beating of his heart pound in both ears. In his dazed state, Cloud checked the upper floor.

His skin crawled at the mere thought of the veiled man who resided there now. Cloud wanted to forget about him. Even so, he needed some measure of assurance. If he knew the man's location he'd feel more comfortable. That's what Cloud told himself as he searched for the man in black. He rejected any notion that this was out of a terrible want to observe disturbing apparitions. And he denied the possibility his dark desire came from a near-death experience as a child, something that had transformed itself into an obsession.

Despair. He would never forget.

On the second level of the club, Cloud spotted a few recognizable faces. Celebrities. Politicians. There were also plenty of Shinra employees. Some still wore their ID badges. Nearly everyone visited Club LIFESTREAM, including President Shinra himself on occasion. Security was higher upstairs because of this.

Aside from the band's stage, the second level contained its own aquatic-themed bar and unique seating spaces. A row of eight-feet-high clamshells were lined along the second floor's railing. Large enough to house a party of ten guests inside, the clamshells were made of crystal and sat wide opened. A low round table made of glass and blue cushioned bedding accommodated each clamshell, allowing guests to comfortably lie down as they drank or conversed. Along the rippled edges of the shell's raised roof hung a stringed curtain made of tiny, beaded glass. They dropped and glistened like rainfall.

It was in these gorgeous clamshells Cloud found the man in black and his party. Near an impressive waterfall that changed colors, their clamshells were positioned directly across his booth. Cloud had an excellent vantage point from his bottom level. Removing his PHS, he used the camera feature to zoom in. He discovered a group of Shinra employees with the four strangers; three men and a woman.

The only female present sat with the veiled man. Together, they occupied a smaller clamshell suited for two a few feet away from the main party. Even with the beaded curtain, Cloud could make out their two forms. The woman carelessly lay against the figure in black. Her curly orange hair was pulled back into a classic retro style up-do. Most interesting was the military dress uniform she wore. According to all the badges and medals that littered her chest, she represented a high-ranking position in the Public Safety Division.

Cloud rubbed his itchy nose again and studied the pair closely. Their intimate closeness appeared surreal. He couldn't understand how a top-ranked officer of Shinra could act so casually around a man like _that_.

"Any idea why he hides his face?" Cloud suddenly blurted out to no one in particular.

His direct question momentarily interrupted the current talk in his booth. Confused, it took Ele' a second to understand the question. Then she followed Cloud's eyes. She quietly sighed when she saw the veiled man. The others at the table did too. Their expressions changed from jovial to disturbed. Apparently, they had all heard stories about the mysterious man in black.

"I don't really know why," Ele' confessed. "I heard he's in mourning."

"Well, _I_ heard his face is so hideous and deformed that he has to hide it," Biggs chimed in, a bit too eager to disclose any and all rumors.

"Yea, I heard he had been in some great fire that fucked him up real good," claimed Wedge. His over dilated eyes tried to focus.

Cloud sighed, disappointed by the lack of reliable information. It was all hearsay. Rumors. Nobody knew who this guy was. With the PHS's camera still zoomed in, Cloud resumed his close observations upstairs and caught the female officer smiling at the veiled man. Her cheeks burned with color while she removed a cigar from a metal case.

When she leaned even closer to the dark figure, Cloud wanted to roll his eyes. This woman came on too hard. Too fast. He expected the predator next to her to respond with a silent, indifferent reaction. Instead, the veiled man lit the woman's cigar with a match. Then he poured wine into her glass while she took a puff. Each of his moves was committed with ease and exactness. The female officer eagerly took the glass and drank it moments later. Her eyes never left him.

"Suave man…" Biggs noted with an impressed nod.

"I'd like to dress bad-ass like him someday," Wedge immediately said.

Biggs snorted out loud. "Only if you can lay off the junk and sweets, flubber-butt."

Wedge stuck out his tongue.

Slightly irritated by their ongoing ramblings, Cloud ignored them. He watched the three blue-eyed men at their own seating space. They regarded the other Shinra employees with similar, cordial manners. More drinks were poured. Only the boy with black hair kept things lively. He dared the Shinra employee next to him into a drinking contest. Cloud was amazed at how fast the wild teen slugged down the shots. It was water to him.

One after another, he slammed the empty glasses upside-down on the table while the other man sluggishly tried to keep up. Twenty shots later, the raven-haired boy stood in victory. His opponent passed out on the velvet cushions. The boy stepped out of the clamshell with a bottle of liquor afterward and drank it down. Seconds later, he spun around fast and crudely spat the liquor straight into the air.

Lying on his side, the fashionably dressed man in blood-red clothes was in the middle of reading a passage from his book to a Shinra employee when he gradually lowered it. Sharp blue eyes stared at his young companion. He snapped his fingers one time and a flicker of fire appeared on his palm. The red-haired male gently blew on it. Almost instantaneously, the stream of airborne alcohol particles caught on fire and a spiraled-shape pillar of fire formed. It wrapped around the black-haired boy.

Nearby spectators stood in awe while the young man danced in the fires. Unharmed. His lithe form twisted and bent in smooth, erotic movements.

The calm aristocratic man eventually rose to his feet and joined him. The fires burned brighter when it surrounded both their bodies. Moving at a steady pace, the two men perfectly mirrored the other in a slow, sensuous dance. Furious-blue eyes stayed locked into one single gaze. Lips faintly brushed against the other while hands explored the curvatures of muscles. The auburn-haired man trailed the boy's waist with his hands and lifted up a few inches of his shirt. He ran his palm across the flat, chiseled belly. As the youth bent backward and closed his eyes, the older man thrust forward and pushed against him. Their dance became more beastly. It shared all the vigor of sex. It was raw. Energetic. Desperate.

Cloud stared nonstop. He couldn't take his eyes away. The dark-haired boy pushed upward, spiked hair whipping wildly. Their lean, beautiful bodies pushed and pulled while the fires burned angrily. Holding his breath, Cloud watched their dance reach a climax. It ended with them tightly wrapped in the other's arms. Both performers slowly stood at full height, facing each other. The man in red gently planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. They pulled away and fires around them finally burnt out. The crowd upstairs cheered.

"Don't take this the wrong way, guys…" Wedge said a moment later, viewing the incredible magic show. "But I can probably go gay for the Ginger. He's pretty hot." He grinned. "Ha! _Get it?_ Hot. Like fire. Like…"

"Hey," Biggs interrupted. "…Shut up." He leaned across the table and smacked Wedge on the head, as if something was broken in there.

Ele' chuckled loudly while Jessie shook her head. Wedge shrugged off their reactions and sniffed up another line of blue dust.

Cloud decided to do the same. Eager to loosen the tight knots in his belly right now, he squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the blue chemicals shot up his nose with blunt force. He threw his head back and moaned quietly to himself. The room span faster. Voices echoed. The blood warmed and freely flowed throughout the entire circuits of his body. Cloud swiped at his nose with a hand and only opened his eyes halfway. In a slurred voice, he asked another question.

"What's his name?" It was the million-dollar question. Cloud didn't know why he had to ask it except that his curiosity and drug-induced state got the best of him. He needed to know.

"What, you interested in him?" Biggs teased.

Hot-faced, Cloud stared back at him with a blank expression. If looks could kill, his would incinerate.

"He goes by many names," Ele' broke the deadly silence. "Death. Bride of Death. Angel. Devil. One-Winged Angel. But only his clients know his real name. They're all sworn to secrecy, I hear."

At this, the blond-haired boy leaned forward. "Clients?"

"He's a Host," she revealed. "They're _all_ Hosts."

Cloud sat back again and surveyed the men upstairs with his PHS again. The interaction between them and the Shinra employees started to make sense. They were hired entertainers. They were hired to _love_. Even so, Cloud made a face when he watched the veiled man with his client. The haunting figure undid the clasps that held the woman's fire-orange hair upward. Falling over her shoulders now, he slowly brushed the loose hair with gloved fingertips.

"Those four men are affiliated with the same group," Ele' remarked, "They're kinda weird. Word on the street is that they came from overseas, before setting up shop in Midgar a few years ago. Their club… It's different from the others."

"How so?" Through the PHS's camera view, Cloud observed the female officer smoke her cigar. Her back rested on the Host's chest while he massaged her scalp with both hands.

"Remember how I said customers who fancy a Host can call one up at any time?" Ele' started.

Cloud nodded.

"Their club is exclusive. Everything, from the club's name to its location, is disclosed in secrecy. You have to be personally invited. Apparently, there's a screening process but I've no idea what it involves."

"Maybe you should quit Chocobo Chow and forget the army, Cloud. Become a Host instead," Biggs joked again. "Flaunt that pretty face of yours and get paid and laid."

The group laughed at the absurd suggestion. Cloud offered a middle finger in response, tempted to punch Biggs at this point. He was grateful when his party took note of his annoyance. In his current compromised condition, his reactions were unpredictable. They eventually changed the subject and discussed a collection of cheesy horror flicks. Ele', in particular, seemed desperate to move on herself. A hint of fear appeared evident in her eyes whenever she glanced upstairs.

For a while, Cloud set his PHS down and numbly listened to pointless chatter. The blue dust's effects had settled in his system, exciting all senses. Relaxed and aroused from the drug, he was in the mood to dance and fuck, although he remained undetermined of which to do first. Cloud discretely placed a hand on his lap in a casual-like manner. Warm fingers gently teased the bulky shape that gradually emerged along his inner thigh. As the boy eyed potential partners on the dance floor, half of his mind was still occupied by the veiled man upstairs.

It was hard to believe the four men were Hosts. The veiled man, especially, didn't look like the type who offered himself to anyone. It was a strange feat to be loved by the Angel of Death. To be lovingly held in his arms. To be kissed. Cloud's nails lightly grazed the top portions of his waking want, as if he needed to scratch it when he really didn't.

Business must've boomed well for the veiled man and his companions. Unlike the annoying Hosts in Midgar, they didn't hound women or shove business cards down their throats. They didn't have to. One look into their crazed beautiful eyes and the people were theirs for the taking. Hook. Line. And sinker.

"You should take off your coat, Cloud," Wedge suddenly suggested. "You look hot in that thing."

Wedge's face was nothing but a blur until Cloud squint his eyes and brought him into focus. Confused, he mumbled, "…Huh?"

"Your face. It's all sweaty and flushed."

Cloud pursed his lips for a brief moment. The hand on his lap paused. He hadn't realized how much his skin burned until now. A new coat of sweat had developed across his forehead, likewise the cheeks. Aside from the blue dust's effects, he actually was very hot because of his coat. The fabric had stayed damped from the water sprinklers earlier. It made his skin itch. Cloud fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably and frowned. He remembered why he hadn't taken off the bloody thing yet. Glancing at the Host upstairs, he dreaded the possibility of the mysterious man catching him in his Chocobo Chow attire.

"I'm wearing my stupid uniform," Cloud bitterly explained. "I wish you guys told me where you were taking me so I'd have brought other clothes to change into."

"Aw, but you look sooo adorable in that work shirt," Ele' teased. "Your hair naturally fits right in with the restaurant's Chocobos." She reached over the table to pull a few strands of Cloud's wild hair.

Cloud brushed her hand away and momentarily closed his eyes, feeling a bit woozy.

"Pft, just take off your shirt then," Biggs suggested, "Be shirtless. No one gives a shit here."

The group agreed, especially when they saw topless men and women everywhere. But Cloud kept his eyes closed and refused Biggs' advice. He was very self-conscious over the nasty scar that spanned across his stomach. His discomfort apparently showed when a person in their table finally spoke.

"Um, M-Metaphysic Disciples are selling band t-shirts by the club's entrance…" the woman across Cloud informed. Everyone paused and looked at Jessie's direction. Her voice was nothing more than a murmur when she added, "I-I-I can nab you one, Cloud. You can change out of your top."

The drugged boy opened his eyes; surprised. Jessie had been quiet this entire evening thus far. It was the first time he ever heard her voice. The brunette-haired teenager kept her head down, unable to meet his eyes. A bundle of nerves, Cloud realized. He finally understood Jessie's issue. She wasn't weird: she was shy. Perhaps even an anti-social person. Cloud could see a bit of himself in the unfortunate girl. Not wanting to embarrass Jessie, he offered her a small smile and tried not to obligate her into anything.

"Um, thanks. But no, I'm fine."

"It's n-n-not an issue," Jessie persisted. She scooted out of the booth, pushing Biggs out of her way. "I forgot to get you something anyway. It's, uh, customary to bring a gift to the birthday boy, r-r-right?"

"Not really…"

Before Cloud could protest again, the girl was already on her way out. He sighed, feeling guilty. It was his predicament; his issue. Still, she sounded all too eager to please him. Jessie's silhouette soon disappeared within the cluster of people and neon-colored lights. Ele' turned to Cloud with a glint in her eyes shortly after.

"You definitely have a way with the ladies, Cloud," she commended.

Cloud cocked a brow; confused. "What?"

"Jessie. She likes you. A lot."

"How do you know?"

"Oh, I have my ways…" Ele' grinned.

Biggs folded his arms across his chest, looking upset now. "Sheesh. There goes _another_ one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cloud demanded and looked at him.

"Man, you're pretty dense for a chick magnet," Biggs declared. Before Cloud could cut in, he griped, "Every time I try to reel in a girl, the moment they see your face all they want is _your_ phone number. I don't get it. I mean, you got the hair of a Chocobo's ass. What the fuck?"

Wedge chuckled at the offhand joke. Biggs told him to shut up, still serious. Cloud narrowed his eyes and instinctively ran a hand through his messy locks of blond hair. He wasn't sure whether to feel flattered or offended by Biggs' comment. From across, Ele' looked ready to add to the conversation but was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of a girl with a giant Mohawk. She stood in front of their booth.

"Fancy a new high, kiddies?" she asked and lifted up her plaid mini-skirt. Aside from the green thong, a second hidden mini-skirt made of plastic pockets appeared. Each pocket contained a pill or vial inside. "I got all types of fun goodies down here."

Dealers were common people in the clubs. Most of them worked for Don Corneo and were able to conduct their business hassle-free. Biggs sheepishly grinned at the attractive woman while Wedge couldn't decide whether to check the merchandise or the girl's panties. Cloud wasn't in the mood for any more substances in his system at the moment, especially when he struggled to keep focused. While the others checked the dealer's products, he grabbed his PHS to look upstairs again.

A small crowd gathered around the Hosts' table since the magic show. The raven-haired boy had gotten a hold of a harness to join two female club performers in their aerial dance. He blew his companions a kiss. Then he howled like a wolf and lifted off from the second floor's railing. Twirling in the air with the hired entertainers, the crowd whistled and clapped. He moved faster than them all. The muscular Host with dark hair merely watched on. He appeared amused. The glint in his strange blue eyes shined brightly.

Cloud observed all of this in his PHS's view finder. As the other boy spun in the air, he felt the Hosts' magnetic aura pull at him again. Many of the club attendees experienced it too. Each Host was as close to a celestial being as they'd ever get. For Cloud, though, his eyes lingered to the one Host whose aura both pulled and terrified him the most.

Through the PHS's camera mode, the black-veiled Host delicately stroked his client's stomach in small circles. She still lay sprawled over him with her back against his chest, facing the club scene in front of her. Cloud had a full frontal shot of her in view. He saw the cigar remain idle between her fingers; saw it still burn. Within moments, the officer tilted her neck to one side and closed her eyes. Content. Cloud's breath hitched once the Host's hand rested over her chest. At first, he simply followed the trail of gold buttons with a finger. Then he undid them one at a time, starting from the collar.

Cloud watched this intimate moment with tightly pursed lips. He suddenly hated this female officer.

"Hey, Cloud," Ele' addressed him. By now, the dealer had left their booth and she was able to ask him a question. "Just curious, but… do you have a girlfriend?"

Cloud set his PHS down. He was glad none of his coworkers had become suspicious of his intrigues. For all they knew, he was recording the club scene. "Excuse me?"

"A girlfriend," she repeated. "You know, a girl who happens to be a friend with boobs and _benefits_?"

"Wait, I thought you two were together?" Wedge started.

"Nah. I already got a boyfriend," Ele' corrected, "We fucked a few times but that was all. Right, Cloud?"

Cloud's face immediately reddened. Sinking into his seat, he stayed silent. He couldn't come up with a response after that. Not only was that _too_ much information, but Ele's bold description of their flings in the past had nearly caused his head to explode. Unlike her, he valued his privacy.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Ele' pressed again when he didn't reply.

"No. Why?" Cloud countered; his voice a bit on edge. He remembered the annoying conversation he had with Kyle at the restaurant. Everyone seemed to be up on his personal business today.

"No need to sound offended. I was just curious," Ele responded evenly, "Biggs is kinda right. There are a lotta girls into you. It's just weird you haven't hooked up with anyone in the years you've been here."

Cloud silently cracked his knuckles underneath the table. Fucking peachy. Bad enough his mother was heavily invested in his love life, but now his coworkers too. It was a no-win situation. Cloud wanted to bury his face and wait for the night to be over. Too bad the night was still young. According to his watch, it was barely twelve-thirty. The witching hour had only started.

"You're not into guys. Are you?" Wedge suddenly asked.

Cloud's half-lidded eyes stayed on the rolly-polly. He wanted to punch his front teeth out.

"No, he's into women," Ele' answered on his behalf with a light-hearted chuckle. She licked her glossed-blue lips and blushed. "Trust me. He knows his way around a girl's undies. _Very_ well."

Both Wedge and Biggs exchanged a look. In perfect synch, they exclaimed: "Daaayum…"

It was around this time their waiter returned. His arrival saved Cloud from an awkward moment and replaced it with joyful surprise at the sight of a large chocolate birthday cake. It was as impressive as Wedge colorfully described earlier and required the assistance of another waiter.

When the cake settled on the table, Wedge clapped. Ele' got out of the booth and stood. She removed a box of small birthday candles from her purse. Just as the waiter passed out their drinks from his tray, she began to plant seventeen candles on the cake. Biggs, meanwhile, retrieved his PHS from the back of his pocket. He took several snapshots of the birthday cake preparations.

With everyone distracted, Cloud aimed his phone back at the female officer and veiled Host on the second floor. The lights in the club turned to pale purples and reds now. The two were hidden in shadow but Cloud still had an excellent view of them from his spot.

By this time, the figure in black had undone several buttons of the woman's top; a black bra showed underneath. The woman's eyes were still closed. Chest rising and falling noticeably, her face shined with perspiration. Her fragile state served as a sharp contrast to the noble position she held in Shinra; a top ranked official reduced to mush at the hands of a mysterious cloaked Host. For a second, Cloud felt guilty watching them together. Dirty. And pissed for some reason. His curious nature kept his eyes on the lustful scene, however. Cloud's entrapped arousal stirred. It wanted more of this.

As erotic music pounded the air, the Host undid the front clasp of the bra. Two breasts bounced out. Their rosy nipples perked in reaction to the raw heat of the club. The Host lazily caressed the left nipple with a leather-clad finger, tracing its organic soft shape. The woman lying on top of him arched her back when he pressed a particular sensitive point. Her eyes opened. She looked at him; mouth slack. Cloud captured the hungry look on her face with his PHS. His own breath drew harder. As much as he despised this moment, he couldn't keep his eyes away from it. Under the table he pressed the palm of his hand against the budge of his trousers. His fingers stroked with the same rhythm as the Host's.

Leaning forward, the dark figure pressed his cloaked face closer to the woman's right ear. He apparently whispered words to her because now she grew still. Attentive. She slowly smiled. Something about that smile troubled Cloud. He noted the crazed, empty look in her eyes. The woman nodded her head only once, as if to acknowledge something. A question. Her Host proceeded to massage the tender bud between his fingers. His other hand, however, moved along the length of her arm. The Host plucked out the cigar from her hand.

Caught in a trance, the officer's eyes remained open. Pink lights flashed over them. Drops of their beaded curtain sparkled in reaction. The Host uttered more words into her ear. What he said, Cloud would never know. He could only observe the officer's bare chest. Her breasts rose and fell more drastically. Beads of sweat glistened and slid down her smooth stomach. Against the black that surrounded the woman, her exposed skin practically glowed with a sharp contrast. The dark figure held the cigar to her lips. She took a deep, long puff. Thick hazardous smoke blew into the air after he pulled it away from her mouth. The fire at the cigar's tip burned brightly.

Cloud zoomed his camera to max. He wanted to observe this event with all of its delicate details intact. But he froze when he noticed the man in black flip the cigar. Its burning tip nearly touched the woman's neck now. She didn't appear alarmed by this. With half-lidded lustful eyes, she followed the trail of her cigar. It traveled down the length of her body, soon passing the collar bone to her fully exposed chest. The gloved finger that fondled the left nipple now stopped.

Cloud sat still when the woman momentarily arched her back enough for the Host. The dark figure leaned down and planted a kiss on the nipple through his veil. Then he raised his head while the officer resumed her previous position and lay on his chest. Cloud wasn't sure what to make of this. He frowned when the Host positioned the cigar's burning tip over the left nipple. A second later, he pressed down.

Cloud nearly jerked in his seat and gritted his teeth. His wide-opened eyes never left the PHS's screen. He watched in horror as the female officer's face twisted in agony. The most tendered part of her skin burned and bubbled under intense heat. Lines of blood dripped down from her left breast while tears streaked her face. Like a wild dog, her mouth drooled with saliva. The veiled man gently held her down when her hips bulked up and down. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close to him like a lover would. The cigar was still pressed into her nipple but the woman did not scream. Even as the tears burst from both eyes, she did not scream. Cloud instantly lost his hard-on. He saw the twisted grin return on the woman's face and realized he had been wrong.

The woman wasn't in pain. She was in ecstasy.

The woman hysterically laughed and violently convulsed. Induced into a state of euphoria, she no longer cared about the bleeding nipple that was reduced to melted flesh now. The veiled man, in all of his calm façade, whispered to her again. Unknown words poured out of him and traveled into her ear. She rode out her painful orgasm while he cradled her in a lovingly manner. The cigar no longer burned.

Cloud briefly turned away from his PHS's viewer screen. Lips had gone dried. His head felt dizzy from both the drugs he'd taken and the traumatizing event he'd just witnessed. He was horrified; disgusted. One hand reactively grasped his left pectoral muscle and squeezed it. Cloud couldn't imagine the sensation of having his left nipple melt off. His teeth grinded together at the thought. For the second time tonight, Cloud wanted to vomit. His terror, though, amplified when he glimpsed back at his PHS.

Onscreen, the veiled man looked directly at Cloud's camera view. His hidden face slowly swayed to one side. The Host moved his head with the careful speed and grace of a feline who'd just found new prey. The color on Cloud's face turned white. Immediately, he slapped his PHS shut. He didn't dare confront the menace that had showed on his high-definition digital screen with his own naked eyes. His heart pounded fast.

The music and people of the club had all become a dull affair now. Exhaling through parted lips, Cloud dropped the PHS on the table, treating it like a cursed object. Wedge frowned at him. He looked ready to ask what was wrong until Jessie arrived.

"Oh, Cloud! I made it right in time!" She emerged from his left side.

Having returned from her short trip, Jessie's brown eyes grew large when she discovered an impressive-looking cake on the table. Biggs briefly stopped taking pictures and greeted her, all smiles now. None of them knew about the horrific event that had just taken place. Cloud felt both sick and grateful for this.

"Here you g-go, Cloud." Jessie approached him and presented a black, short-sleeved shirt with a band's logo on it. "Happy birthday."

Cloud took a deep swallow and forced himself to relax. "Thanks, Jessie."

For a moment, Jessie noted the broken sound of his voice. She also caught the pale expression on his face. Cloud prayed she didn't ask him any questions and looked away from her. Jessie briefly opened her mouth. A second passed. Then her lips closed. A shadow of a smile appeared; half concerned and half sincere. She quickly returned to her spot at the booth without a word.

"Okay, we're almost ready," Ele' announced and winked at Cloud.

All of the candles on the cake were set. Ele' took out her lighter and started the process of lighting them. Biggs took shots of everyone with his PHS again. Cloud didn't look up at his camera or smile. He mentally and physically withdrew to his tiny corner of the booth as much as he could. Even when there grew a slight temptation to glance upstairs, he quickly stumped out the idea. He knew what terror was up there, eager to return his silent gaze. Cloud kept to himself until all candles were lit.

"We're set," Ele' declared. "Let's do this."

Jessie grinned while Biggs took a snapshot. Both Wedge and Ele' slid the cake down the table so that it sat directly in front of Cloud. The dazed country boy blinked at the multi-layered sweet treat. The cake's overwhelming sight somehow managed to pull him out of his frozen state. Seventeen candles burned. A realization hit Cloud as he sat and studied the piece of work.

Seventeen candles. It was seventeen candles that represented his seventeen years in this planet. He could feel the insides of his stomach bundle together, especially when he knew many of those years had been wasted on a dying dream. Cloud became quiet while the birthday theme played. As was customary, his initiation into the new adult year arrived with a cheesy, very cliché song. Everyone present in his booth mouthed the words. Smiling waiters encouraged others to join, rallying people together. Many followed for the hell of it.

The birthday song traveled beyond Cloud's booth in a matter of seconds. A few aerial dancers converged at his spot in the club and twirled above him. It was easy to find him. Within the dark atmosphere of artificial neon lights, his was the only booth that glowed with a natural fire.

Soon, the song traveled to the dance floor and more attention drew to him. It eventually picked up enough momentum and reached the live band upstairs. The performers played the beat with gentle chimes and piano notes. The sound had a musical-box vibe, one that beckoned back to innocent and carefree times.

The birthday theme lasted only a few seconds long but dragged on forever at the same time. Cloud wondered how long he could hold his breath. The often shy teen sat still in his seat and swallowed hard. His face grew warm from both embarrassment and the seventeen candles still burning. He wanted to disappear. Thankfully, his torment ended on the song's last words. Wedge was the first to scream above the roar of applause and cheer.

"Make a wish, Cloud! Make a wish!"

Everyone at the table offered words of encouragement, eagerly waiting for him to blow out his candles. Cloud could barely make his mouth work, let alone, summon enough air to comply. His slick palms clutched onto his knees. He tried to compose himself but the room span around him fast. Lights flared. Blurs of faces appeared. His companions smiled, likewise the strangers. They were all cast in blue.

A piercing thought haunted the back of Cloud's mind. It had never left him. Delirious and overwhelmed by it, he finally observed the second floor and resigned himself to the inevitable.

The first person he saw was the black-haired youth. He hung on his harness upside-down and looked at his direction with those mystifying blue eyes of his. It was the same for the other two blue-eyed men who sat and watched the event unfold. Blue. Their colors of blue found him. Cloud could feel the vibration of his heart pound across his entire body. He dared himself to look at the final Host.

One elegant gloved hand settled over a glass of wine while the other mechanically stroked the hairs of the woman in his arms. She was too spent to notice that her Host's gaze no longer focused on her. It had strayed away. The dark figure now stared at Cloud's booth. At him. The weight of his hidden eyes was strong. Cloud felt it. Somehow, even with the black veil, he sensed a smile. It made him feel naked; exposed. Cloud could only stand in the line of this man's fire.

"Well, Cloud?" Biggs yelled above the ongoing noise and claps. He brought him back to reality with a large grin on his face. "You ready to blow your candles yet?"

The cake. The candles. His wish. Cloud suddenly remembered. He rubbed off the layer of sweat on his palms across both thighs. He felt the veiled man still watching him. That powerful stare bore down on him and Cloud knew, without a doubt, he'd never feel the same again.

A surprising wish came to him in the midst of these confusing thoughts. It was an absurd wish, especially after the horrific scene he just saw. But the wish drew from the deeper, darker depths of his soul. And that wish grew stronger by the second. Even as Cloud tried to deny this desire and wanted to wish for admission into Shinra's army instead, the hidden aspects of himself wouldn't let him. The wish screamed out for liberation.

Despair. He would never forget.

It was then that Cloud leaned forward in his seat. Slowly, he closed his clear-blue, gentle eyes. He ignored all the vibrant colors in this aquatic world. The pinks. The purples. And the blues. They didn't matter. Neither did the screams and claps around him. They all became silent in Cloud's mind. A calming sensation washed over him and he gladly welcomed it. He exhaled sharply. Within seconds, the burning candles finally blew out.

Black. Cloud wished for everything to be painted in black.


	8. Dance with the Devil

**Author's Note:** _ Check yourself before you wreck yourself, ghouls and boils. Warning: tons of 'smexy-wtf-am-I-reading' moments in this chapter. _

* * *

CHAPTER 7: Dance with the Devil

"Big titties," Wedge proclaimed as he grabbed a glass of beer next to him. His mouth was slack and the words left his lips in mumbled, drawled-out sounds. "That's all I want out of this life. I want to shove my face in a pair of titties and – _hiccup_ – suffocate myself. I'll die a happy man, bro. Honest truth."

And that was all the big boy said before chugging his beverage in one take. Wedge belched out loud a beat later.

Somewhere on the second level of club LIFESTREAM, a guitar shrieked an onslaught of high-pitched notes in rapid succession. It practically drowned out a jubilant crowd that had grown to twice its original size. It was close to two in the morning but the energy in the club still hadn't let up. The air grew misty and thick with heat. Temperatures escalated thanks to many new arrivals. As the early morning hours rolled on, reckless youths worshipped dance, music, booze, drugs, and sex.

At the booth, Wedge and Cloud sat together at opposite sides. Neon lights flared all around them. The two had kept each other company for a good while. Ele', Biggs, and Jessie were all gone. They had abandoned the booth an hour ago to join the giant mob on the dance floor. Only Wedge and Cloud stayed behind.

Two large holographic images of mantra rays currently floated above their heads. Across their table was a collection of abandoned glasses and plates. A few pieces of the birthday cake remained. The once massive tower of chocolate was now reduced to chunks of frosting and collapsed breading at this point. Both boys observed the leftovers with mild interest.

"How would _you_ want to die?" Wedge curiously asked.

Cloud currently slumped against his seat with unfocused blue eyes. His distorted vision casted blurred movements and a kaleidoscope of intertwined images. Only in this drunken, semi-aware state did he entertain such an absurd question. He shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. In a blaze of glory, I guess…"

"Don't we all…" the other boy mumbled back. Wedge raised his beer in a toast. "Here's to dying with the flames of hell whipping at our backs then."

Cloud didn't bother lifting his mug; his arms felt too heavy. Both of them had been drinking for an hour, filling their heads with all sorts of liquid fantasies. While Cloud was nowhere near Wedge's intoxication level, his glassy eyes were masked by fatigue and disorientation. His head throbbed as well. It was as if a thousand knives dug deep into his skull and went straight for the meaty, sensitive parts of his brain. Was this the notorious symptom of a _hangover_? Was he _that_ drunk?

"Do you prefer big titties or small ones?" Wedge inquired next from the other side.

A numb look crossed Cloud's face. He knew both of them were too out of it to really care for his personal preferences – _finely perked ones_. Briefly, Tifa came to mind. In that moment Cloud held his breath. He knew Tifa would grow a nice pair. She had already developed an impressive rack the last time he saw her. Chilly days were definitely memorable days for him. Tifa's pair always reacted to the cold.

"There are plenty of chicks with big and small ones at the Honey-Bee Inn," Wedge mentioned shortly. He washed down his throat with more beer; a toothy smile still planted on his face. "I'm sure you'll find – _hiccup_ – someone you like there."

A quiet sound stayed stuck in Cloud's throat. His eyes drifted to the membership card on the table; the original source that inspired their current conversation. It was a one-time visit to the naughty den in Wall Market. Cloud wasn't sure whether to thank or smack Wedge for the gift.

"There's no expiration on it," Wedge added, "So go butt-crazy whenever you want to."

"…Geez. Thanks_._"

"Any time!"

Wedge's inability to detect the bells of sarcasm that rang in Cloud's voice amused the country boy. Still, he said nothing and took a long sip from his glass of water instead.

It was the humidity in the club that bothered Cloud the most. So far, he had drunk eight glasses of water. It did little to cool his body or satisfy the dried texture of his tongue. His bladder gradually made protests. He'd need to take a piss soon. Cloud stayed put though. Aside from his incapacitated state, there was another reason why he chose to stay behind in the booth.

While Wedge vulgarly expressed his adoration for big-breasted Wutai chicks, Cloud ice-blue eyes fell to a particular man upstairs. _Black_. That was what Cloud called him. Without knowledge of his true identity, _Black_ was as good as any name to appoint. It felt appropriate.

Throughout the hour, Cloud watched Black from his booth. The veiled Host had not moved from his spot. Casually lying on his side across the velvet seating area, he supported half of himself up with an elbow. One knee was raised while a free hand held a very long, elegantly shaped pipe that emitted a bizarre green smoke. The veil lifted just high enough to slip the pipe's mouth piece through. Whatever substance Black inhaled Cloud didn't recognize it.

The Host's female client, meanwhile, lay passed out by his side. It was a wonder why Black hadn't abandoned her to join the other Hosts. Over the course of his close observations, however, Cloud learned why he stayed behind in his spot.

At first, Cloud dismissed it as mere coincidence. The long veil made it impossible to see the exact direction of Black's sights. Even so, Cloud felt his skin crawl with a familiar sensation. There was no mistake about it. Since the birthday cheer, a quiet tension had developed between them. Black spent most of his time smoking and watching. Watching _him_.

Pinned to his booth, Cloud nearly suffocated in Black's heavy, steadfast gaze. It was impossible to avoid it. Every move he made was observed by shrouded eyes. Cloud swallowed hard, unsure if it was nervous knots or concern that tied him to his seat. Or perhaps the liquor in his system had really fucked up his ability to think and correctly perceive. Perhaps all of this was in his head.

A sudden urge to pee struck the tip of Cloud's agitated groin; a reminder from Mother Nature to take care of proper business. He briefly squeezed his thighs together and battled the uncomfortable sensation with sheer will. Like hell he'd leave the safety confines of his booth. Black was out there. Watching him.

"Aren't you hot in that thing?" Wedge abruptly inquired, noticing Cloud's silence. He scooped up two inches of chocolate frosting from the discarded cake with a finger. Sucking on his pinky, he noted questionably, "Weren't you gonna take off that – _hiccup_ – coat?"

Cloud forced his eyes away from Black. "Huh? What?"

"Your coat…"

Cloud reactively glanced down at his heavy coat. He frowned. Originally, he'd planned to visit the men's restrooms and change into the shirt Jessie had given him. But that plan quickly changed when he noticed Black keeping a watchful eye on him throughout the evening. Cloud refused to leave the booth, feeling both paranoid and nervous. For all he knew, the rumors were true and the black veil concealed a face that oozed with pus, blood, and rotten meat. A demonic being with all the mannerisms and essence of an angel… Black would strike as soon as he left the booth. It was a terrifying yet provocative fantasy.

"I'm fine," Cloud lied and drank more water to cool himself off.

"You're sweating more than I do on a single push-up though."

Cloud simply readjusted himself in his seat.

"Bah, remove the coat," Wedge begged.

That anxious feeling from before grew in Cloud's belly. When he checked upstairs he found Black exhaling a giant puff of smoke. There was something hypnotic in the way the strange green haze slithered around his dark figure like a ghostly snake. It was alluring. Cloud set his glass of water down.

"Go change," Wedge urged.

"I can't," Cloud managed to mutter. "The restrooms are likely full so there's no point of changing now."

"Who says you gotta go there to change? Change – _hiccup_ – here."

"What?"

"You heard me. Take off that stupid coat and – _hiccup_ – switch shirts here. You're sweatin' like a hog."

"Wedge, shut up. You're drunk. There's no way I'm changing out here." Cloud was just as drunk but tried to keep the tone of his voice calm.

"What? You're afraid of showing your man-tits? Ain't anyone gonna – _hiccup hiccup_ – give a shit if you change in our booth. Look 'round you." Wedge lazily waved a hand at the crowd on the dance floor. At least ten women were topless, happily flashing people with perked nipples. "Just change, man. It's not like anyone is – _hiccup_ – gonna watch you."

Cloud narrowed his eyes in an all-knowing manner. He sat still, getting more and more irritated with Wedge. And himself. He hated how tensed he'd become. Cloud partly blamed it on tonight's dust-filled and alcoholic partaking. They made him edgier than usual.

"Cloud," Wedge demanded one last time with an exaggerated pout. "_Change_."

"_Fine_…" Cloud bellowed back. Wedge's constant nagging had finally forced his hand. Now his fingers found their way to his coat's buttons.

Beads of sweat streaked down his cheeks. The heat from the club made it harder to breathe. Keeping his face down, Cloud grew embarrassed. He didn't dare check Black's reaction to his undressing. The faster he changed the better. Cloud slowly lifted the heavy coat off his shoulders. Tiny bumps surfaced across his skin. He actually felt better. A ton of weight had disappeared. He'd been sweating in that damn coat the entire time and now felt as light as a feather without it. Unfortunately, the sight of a yellow uniform shirt reminded him why he kept it on in the first place.

Cloud muttered an incoherent word, feeling even more exposed and irritated. His fingers quickly worked to remove the top while he hunched down as much as he could, attempting to conceal himself with the table. Seconds later, the flimsy material was tossed aside.

"Damn, Cloud. You got a hot body…" Wedge remarked at a shirtless Cloud; his beady brown eyes wide opened now. "I'd go Bear for you…"

"Shut up." Cloud glared at him.

"You work-out?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Wedge gave one more glance-over at Cloud's bare chest. "You should strip for the ladies. Certainly pays better than the army."

Cloud rolled his eyes. Inwardly, though, he enjoyed the compliment. He didn't flaunt an impressive six-pack like all the cool guys. However, his body did showcase a lean and tight frame. The tummy was flat and his slender arms possessed all the necessary toned muscles required to lift pounds of steel. He had the slim figure of a dedicated athlete. If not for the long scar below the navel point he'd feel more comfortable with his body.

Cloud paused before putting on the shirt Jessie had given him. He didn't know why, but he caught a glimpse upstairs. He didn't understand the warmth that flushed down his body when he discovered Black sitting in a different upraised position. His long pipe now rested idly between gloved fingers. Cloud's breath hitched. Something in the way Black watched him made this moment more intense. Black didn't move. Nor did he take a smoke from his long pipe. Licking his lips, Cloud did not cover himself yet. His skin rushed with another wave of heat and, for the briefest of moments, he reveled in the attention given to him right now. He felt… a desire.

"Ugh, I feel like shit," Wedge suddenly groaned.

The words snapped Cloud out of his trance. He blinked several times.

"Why do I feel like shit?" moaned the big boy again. Wedge massaged the sides of his scalp.

With a small amount of reluctance, Cloud slipped on the black short-sleeved shirt. It fit perfectly. He turned his attention to Wedge. "That's because we drank a lot, idiot…" Cloud quietly reminded.

"Think I'm gonna –_hiccup_ – take a little nap…"

Cloud cocked a brow at Wedge.

Wedge's chubby red face hit the table with a dull thump. A second later, he mumbled, "Yep. Nap time."

"Hopeless." Cloud sighed. "You're hopeless, Wedge…"

"Bah. I'm not hopeless, I'm – _hiccup_ – just misunderstood." Face-down with saliva drooling at the corners of his mouth, the big boy closed his eyes.

Cloud shook his head. He reached over the table to smack Wedge's cheek and wake him up. Wedge snored. Cloud considered slapping him again until a buzzing sound vibrated from his pants' pocket. Glancing down, he retrieved his electronic device. It was a text message.

**Nunchaku (2:10AM):** _Get laid yet?_

Cloud's cheeks rose to a deeper shade of blush. He figured Kyle would text him during the birthday get-together. Their _colorful_ conversation at the restaurant hadn't been completely forgotten. With a soft scoff, Cloud typed a quick reply.

**Omnislash (2:10AM):** _Nope._

Cloud didn't have to wait long for a response. Kyle was all too quick to point out the obvious.

**Nunchaku (2:10AM):** _What the fuck, man? No potential prospects?_ _I'll happily fuck you if no one does._

**Omnislash (2:11AM):** _Not interested._

**Nunchaku (2:11AM):** _I'll be a gramps by the time you make up your mind._

**Omnislash (2:11AM):** _Whatever. Still not interested._

**Nunchaku (2:11AM):** _Have you at least found someone interesting enough to fuck?_

Cloud nearly rolled his eyes. That damn question. Kyle was relentless. Of course, Cloud was a bit disappointed he hadn't found anyone to take home as well. He still hadn't mastered the art of random one-night stands. The women he'd slept with had either been minor associates or gone out on a date with him at least once prior to the dirty deed. His ability to initiate sex was also clumsy at best. A lackluster compliment here. An awkward glance there. He'd only gotten away with it because the girls thought his efforts were _cute_ and took pity on him. It also helped he sported pretty blue eyes and a decent-sized cock.

As the morning hours drew his birthday celebration closer to an end, Cloud wondered if he'd be lucky at all today. He admittedly wanted to bring home company; he needed to relieve the stress that had built up since the day of his third rejection letter. At least he _did_ find someone worth an interest: Black.

No sooner did Cloud think about the Host did he look upstairs. Again, the veiled creature stared back, observing him as always. Cloud suddenly remembered Kyle's _mission_. The street hustler had mentioned the elusive man; a man in a black veil who saw only the people he chose to see. It sounded bizarre at first. Cloud couldn't believe such a story. But there he was: the black-veiled man.

**Nunchaku (2:13AM):** _Where are you?_

**Omnislash (2:13AM):** _Club LIFESTREAM._

**Nunchaku (2:13AM):** _That place is elite. You'll definitely find someone and get laid._

**Omnislash (2:14AM):** _I guess._

**Nunchaku (2:14AM):** _You really need to work on that confidence of yours, buddy._

Cloud mentally scolded Kyle and messaged back a 'whatever'. Of course. It was so _easy_ for Kyle to think like that; to be so damn optimistic. Everything came naturally for him. Everyone loved and idealized the other blonde. Cloud didn't doubt the street rat's handsome looks and charms would convince the veiled man to see him; to _choose_ him. Kyle was fucking perfect.

**Nunchaku (2:16AM):** _I still haven't found him._

**Omnislash (2:17AM):** _Him?_

**Nunchaku (2:17AM):** _Yeah. Him. The black-veiled man._

Cloud paused. It was as if Kyle had just read his mind. Both sets of teeth gently tapped together a few times. He thought a moment. Kyle would be ecstatic if he learned the black-veiled man was here at Club LIFESTREAM. He had passed up the birthday get-together in search of him. Cloud's fingers hooved over the cellphone's keyboard. He contemplated over a proper response.

**Nunchaku (2:18AM):** _I don't understand. My sources say he's out in the city right now._

Cloud's fingers hesitated.

**Nunchaku (2:19AM):** _Do you think he's there? At the club?_

Cloud still debated on what to type.

**Nunchaku (2:19AM):** _Have you seen anyone in a black veil?_

Cloud's fingers finally moved across his keypad. Each letter he pressed lit in rapid succession. Halfway into typing a confirmation of the Host's location, though, that tang of bitterness from before seeped into Cloud's thoughts.

Black would likely choose Kyle. It was a fact. Once again, Kyle would be the favorite of the two blonds. Once again, Kyle would end up on top. Cloud's briefly looked up at the Host and wondered if Black would have approached Kyle by now. Perhaps Black would've spent the evening staring at _him_ instead. Cloud's jaw reset itself. He read over his unsent text message and blankly stared at the _enter_ key of his phone now. Before he could think any more on it, a familiar chime alerted him to a new comment.

**Nunchaku (2:20AM):** _Cloud? You there?_

Cloud didn't understand how he developed a fascination with Black or why the possibility of Kyle being chosen bothered him. Black's occupation still sounded bizarre to his ears. It wasn't like Cloud intended to call on him. If anything, his intrigue likely came from pure curiosity. No matter the taboo or personal implications, Cloud couldn't deny the appeal of the Host. With a deep swallow, his fingers tapped on a single button. _Delete._ Each word disappeared. They were replaced by a short and brief message.

**Omnislash (2:23AM):** _Have to go now._

Cloud shut the phone before he could read the next reply. He drew a breath afterward. Almost as soon as he ended their chat, feelings of guilt and disappointment emerged.

Cloud recalled Ele's conversation not long ago. _Giant cock-teases_, she had claimed. Look, but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Cloud wondered what sort of tedious requirements the Hosts demanded of their clients, especially the black-veiled man. They weren't the type who opened up to anyone. A fat pocket likely played a part in their selection process. Considering the amount of club attendees already interested in the four Hosts, they could afford to be picky with their clientele. It was probably suave and beautiful clients like Kyle they took a fancy to, not minimum-waged punks like him.

Cloud felt like shit right now. He couldn't understand where these feelings of resentment came from. Nor why he felt jealous in the first place. He'd just screwed over his friend. And for what? Because he hated how popular Kyle was? Because Black would choose him? Growling to himself, Cloud opened his phone again. He felt ashamed of his childish tantrum. When he saw a smiling emoticon and 'good luck' text Kyle had left for him, it only made Cloud hate himself more. He immediately typed his original response and a quick apology. However, when Cloud glanced at Black upstairs he stopped typing.

Black was gone.

Cloud leaned forward in his seat. The female client still rested on her side, still asleep, but Black was nowhere to be seen. Cloud's eyes searched for the missing Host across the second floor. The music changed. As if echoing his tensed mood, it turned to a more furious, fast-beat tempo. Sirens wailed on and off while words spilled from the mouths of the musicians. They spoke of love, knives, and agony. The song prompted the crowd to scream louder. Everywhere, the air reeked of electric energy and pure desire. Strobe lights flickered on and off again from all directions. A mist of blue settled across the club.

Licking his dried lips, Cloud wondered if Black temporarily left for better adventure or ditched the club scene altogether. Likely the Host had grown tired of their little game and simply moved on. Disappointed by the thought, Cloud shut his phone and slid it back into his pocket. The text didn't matter anymore. He no longer knew where the Host was.

_Peachy_.

Feeling his bladder ready to explode again, Cloud ultimately decided now was a good time to relieve himself. He checked on Wedge first. Still snoring, the big boy wasn't going anywhere. Cloud made his way out of the booth. At first, his legs stumbled when a sensation of vertigo and disorientation temporarily took over. Cloud fought to regain his balance and forced one foot in front of the other. It was like climbing down a forty foot ladder; every successful step became an act of god. As clumsy as his physical actions were, however, his mind remained coherent enough. He slowly made his way down a small flight of stairs.

Avoiding the big crowds, Cloud stuck close to the glassed walls and placed a hand on it to steady himself. Several times he had to stop and re-focus his vision. Thankfully, a straight line of blue neon lights directed him to the men's restroom.

When he finally arrived there were two entries at opposite sides of each other. Lines had formed outside those entrances. For whatever reason, one line was longer than the other. Cloud opted for the shorter one but immediately stopped mid-stride.

Within the low-lit setting of the club, Cloud discovered the silhouette of a terrifying yet elegant shape: the figure in black. Black stood in line with his back pressed against a wall, one knee casually bent with arms folded across his chest. A PHS was currently flipped open in his hand; its screen casted a soft tinted light. The long veil stayed over Black's face while he stayed occupied with his cellphone.

Cloud's mouth parted. The even rhythm of music played louder in his ears. Both cheeks burned with heat while erratic thoughts danced in his head. The influence of alcohol and drugs only made him succumb to his mental wanderings faster. He wasn't ready to stand near this strange man. Even if he was, he wouldn't know what to say or how to act. Their distant interactions throughout the evening were as far as Cloud was willing to go. Stepping backing, he quickly joined the longer line before Black noticed him. As if sensing his presence, though, the tall shadow looked up from his PHS.

Cloud reached the other line. When he glanced back, he noticed that Black had lowered his arms from their crossed position. The weight of his stare bore down on the teenager. It never wavered.

Holding his breath, Cloud had trouble standing on both feet. Nervous knots overwhelmed his stomach. He hid behind the bodies of men in line, trying to avert that heavy gaze from him. Already dreading his decision to visit the restroom, Cloud kept to himself. He felt exposed. Naked. That awkward feeling amplified when he noticed a few men in line glancing back at him. The large bald man directly in front of him smiled in a manner that made his shoulders tense. Cloud considered returning to the booth but his bladder demanded attention. Several times he had to shift his weight from one leg to the other, sometimes crossing them.

Thankfully, the long line moved along the wall. When Cloud made it to the neon-lit entry point, the door automatically slid aside for him. There was a curved hallway that snaked up to a small set of stairs. The corridor's glassed walls showcased a family of fish flowing to and forth. Through the transparent wall and swimming fish, Cloud could see the second line of men on the other side. He found Black there. Black stood, staring back at him. Cloud frowned when the veiled figure lifted up a single finger. Black slowly shook it, making a peculiar 'no' gesture.

No? Cloud blinked several times, confused.

The current song in the background continued its chaotic melody. The line progressed again. Cloud reached the small set of stairs and came to the main section of the restroom. The restroom was massive. A soft bluish tint emitted from its glass floor. Thousands of small fish swam under his feet. He felt as if he were walking on water – in his drunken condition he might as well have been. A paranoid voice within worried about a leak or crack in the glass. Because the entire restroom was situated deep inside the aquarium's waters any break could potentially flood the whole compartment. Cloud fought against the gruesome thought and forced one foot forward.

He noticed the restroom was large enough to accommodate a good number of occupants. With so many attendees at the club tonight all of the urinals and stalls were in use though. The enormous space was divided in half by a large water wall that reached up to the glass ceiling. LED lights continuously changed its colors. On both sides of the water wall were the restroom's sinks. The faucets themselves were constructed of glass; their exposed pipes glowed. Rectangular mirrors hung in suspension by thin metal rods attached to the ceiling.

Straight ahead from the small flight of stairs, Cloud saw two rows of restroom stalls. They were several feet apart and faced each other. One row ran against a wall while the other set of stalls was situated in front of the water fall. Urinals lined along the far back of the restroom. Cloud advanced a step and momentarily struggled with his balance. From his immediate left he caught a glimpse of the other side of the restroom. Divided by the same water wall, the second half of the men's room also featured two lined stalls facing each other.

Cloud wrinkled his nose. It smelled of fresh bleach here. Something else drifted in the air; something that shared the same oily stench of ejaculated juices. Cloud moved further toward the stalls. He paused.

A large crowd had gathered in the narrow space between the two rows facing each other. At first, Cloud dismissed the peculiar scene. Then he heard soft moans echo throughout the area. Up until now, he hadn't heard them; the dance club's music blared too loudly from the restroom speakers. He was now close enough to hear the groaning. For whatever reason, the crowd of men stared intensely at the two rows of stalls. Cloud couldn't see what they saw from his angle. He quickly made a face when he noticed a few men expose themselves. Their arousals out, they pumped themselves through tight sweaty fists. When the line moved along again, things became clearer to Cloud.

The first thing Cloud discovered was that the stall doors and walls were all made of glass; clear and visible glass. The lack of private measures initially baffled Cloud until he joined the crowd and stood between the two rows. He froze in place. Through the exposed stalls, he witnessed an exhibition of raw, unbound human pleasure.

While a few men openly injected needles and shot up chemical romance into their veins, others engaged in debauchery. At the glassed stall next to Cloud, he saw a tall and slim man with a neatly groomed cut. He stood with no shirt on; his trousers pulled down to his ankles. Facing a wall, his pale buttocks were spread wide. The man's skin shined with the dull blue color of the restroom's sterile-like lighting. Each breath he drew fogged the glass. Standing behind him was a bulky, muscular man wearing only a terrifying full-faced scuba mask. His breath wheezed audibly as he thrust deep and hard nonstop, like a machine set on auto-pilot mode. His massive muscles rippled with each motion he committed. The sound of wet pounding could be heard through the glass while the slim man's length helplessly wobbled up and down. Its glossed tip smacked and smeared the glass.

Cloud looked away but the stall next door was just as eye-shocking. Crammed with four men, three of them were connected like a train and clumsily pushed into each other's crevices. The fourth man rested on his knees. His face was buried between the buttocks of the last man. Again and again, his head bobbed as he lapped at a sensitive spot there.

At the stall directly across them was a boy in his early twenties. He sat kneeled between two older men in opposite sides. The boy kept slapping his face with their aged cocks. The older men whispered many encouraging words until two spurts of white goo sprayed outward. At that point, Cloud stepped back.

Nauseous, his throat burned. The liquid he'd drank all night rose and threatened to erupt. Cloud swallowed it down and shut his eyes. He understood now why one of the restroom lines was shorter than the other; why Black had gestured a 'no' to him earlier. This line led to a peep show. Each stall showcased one perversion after the next. Voyeurism was welcomed as well as those who wanted to participate in the _show_.

Running a hand through sweat-mat hair, Cloud felt awkward and out of place. He could still hear the sounds of hot sweaty flesh getting slapped above the electro music. The air reeked of sex. Cloud wished the music was loud enough to block out everything. And yet, he was disturbed when some part of him wished the music was completely gone.

The teen swallowed hard. That tiny voice of self-loathe and resentment gnawed at him. It reprimanded him for standing here with a half-awake want. Cloud blamed it on his full-bladder and compromised condition. He was a young, drunken fool.

Once he saw a man publically shit on a glassed-made toilet and wipe himself in front of the audience that became his last straw. Cloud turned away in disgust. He decided to take a piss elsewhere. Perhaps he could sneak into the women's restroom. Or find a potted plant somewhere. He needed to leave this place. Cloud made his way out of the line. However, the chubby man in front of him abruptly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. The big guy already had his erection out and held it tightly with a free hand. That same twisted grin from before now reappeared on his face.

"Hey, birthday boy…" he started in a low breathy voice, "I gotta nice, juicy present for you…"

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Due to his public-wide celebration, it didn't surprise him many strangers recognized him as the _birthday boy_. Still, he wasn't in the mood for this crap. "Sorry. Not interested."

The big guy didn't let go of his arm. "Don't be shy, angel-face. Daddy will treat you good."

"Get lost, _Daddy_, or I'll rip off your balls and make you choke on them," Cloud threatened back. He was drunk, yes. But he had a nasty habit of beating things to a bloody pulp whenever someone annoyed him.

The man merely laughed and dismissed the threat. He tugged at Cloud and brought him closer, soon rubbing his rigid, slimy penis across the boy's thigh. He was about to make another crude suggestion until he froze in place. Cloud noticed the expression. He suddenly felt a presence nearby and turned.

A tall dark figure loomed over them. Cloud barely made an audible sound from his throat; a mixture of surprise, fear, and fascination. Without a word, Black swiftly grabbed the hand that clung to his arm. Cloud could hear the soft cracks of finger joints break. The big guy bellowed out a painful yelp. Black did not release him. He slid a gloved hand to the back of his veil.

Glimpses of long silvery hair appeared when the black cloth briefly shifted to the side. Cloud had never seen hair like that before, thick and smooth with an unnatural pigment. Eventually, his eyes followed the gloved hand's movements. It withdrew a foot-long blade hidden beneath the veil. Black gracefully placed the sword near the chubby man's exposed groin. He was in the perfect position to castrate him.

"_Observe_," a low and even voice ordered from behind the black veil, "A complimentary blade of mine. Nowhere near as impressive as my _other_ sword, but it suffices. For the ancient Wutai clans, this blade's primary function involves beheadings and ritual suicide." Black lured the katana closer to the head part of the man's fat cock with one silent move. He leaned closer to the man's ear and whispered, "_Beheading_… That's quite an appropriate function to perform at this moment. Wouldn't you say?"

The big man's knees visibly wobbled. Already, his hard-on lost half of its shape. Black finally let go of his hand. With broken fingers the big guy took many unbalanced steps back. He trembled nonstop, looking on the verge of tears. Whatever sounds came from his mouth were incoherent. Zipping up his pants with his only workable hand, he quickly scurried away.

Cloud witnessed this event in complete silence. He didn't blink. Somehow, the voice that spoke had also frozen him in place. Nothing in Black's tone sounded forced. His mannerisms were effortless while his voice's pitches were a collection of melancholic, low melodies that bounced in the air. Cloud stood still, completely transfixed.

"If it is deviant pleasure you desire I will leave you to your devises, boy," the veiled stranger spoke again, his voice smooth and not above a whisper. "On the other hand, if you came here to discharge then be advised: you're standing in the wrong line."

Without another word, Black headed to the other line across the restroom. His gloved hand swiftly returned the foot-long blade to a holster concealed underneath his cloak. Again, Cloud saw thick strands of long silvery hair. Against the blackness of the Host's whole attire, the fair hair really struck out. Cloud took a swallow. Standing in line with a bunch of men who now watched him like live bait, he didn't waste any more time. He quickly trailed after Black and reached the other side.

Cloud was relieved to find steel-made walls and doors in the stalls here. Unlike the other line, this one was meant for those who actually needed to use the damn restroom. If only he discovered this sooner when he arrived. Cloud now stood behind the dark-cloaked stranger as they waited for their turn. There were a few men ahead of them. This didn't help his situation. His bladder was ready to explode. The adrenaline rush Cloud had just experienced now exhausted his body. At this rate he'd piss in his pants and shame himself in front of everyone, including Black.

Chewing on the insides of his mouth, Cloud blankly stared at the space between his feet. Fish floated below. He considered thanking the Host for his assistance. A tinge of embarrassment struck deep in his gut though and he ultimately decided against it.

Black definitely had a terrifying and intimidating presence, despite his dignified stature. Standing behind him, Cloud halfway expected Black to turn around and stare down at him like he'd done throughout the evening. He didn't. There was only a prevailing silence between them, broken only by the sounds of music and heavy panting from the other side of the restroom. With so many awkward circumstances happening all at once, Cloud figured his rotten luck would bring him here. It brought him to the mysterious man in black on a full bladder and in the middle of an orgy.

"Is this your first time seeing something like this, boy?" Black suddenly asked without looking back.

_Boy_. Cloud was slightly annoyed at being called a _boy_ than _man_ but bit back a smart-ass reply. The question itself flustered him. Cloud stayed silent and fidgeted in his spot.

It was definitely an awkward moment. Aside from his bodily demands, there were the sounds of sex that echoed across the walls. Even from their current position, glimpses of the orgy could still be seen. Black obviously saw the couplings but maintained a calm demeanor.

"A sea of impenetrable, lustful gazes with only the motive to drive forth a slick and ready want into the warmest nether regions…" the veiled man noted thoughtfully, "It's all an erotic landscape composed of endless consumption, yes?"

Velvety sounds of Black's voice penetrated Cloud's ears again. The back of his exposed neck felt moist while leg muscles weakened. Strange. Whenever the dark figure spoke Cloud felt more unglued. No other person had inspired this kind of reaction before. He mentally scolded himself for putting himself in this predicament. Black suddenly turned and looked at Cloud; the veil silently flowed after him.

"I've seen you looking at me the entire evening. You've watched me since I entered this place," Black pointed out evenly. Leaning his head to one side, he inquired, "Do I strike you as _strange?_"

It took a long moment for Cloud to find his voice. What came out sounded raspy and uncertain. "Honestly? Y-yeah."

A soft and very low chuckle escaped the other man's concealed mouth. His facial veil slightly moved.

"I saw you looking at me too," Cloud confessed. He held his breath for a second. Then he quickly reiterated his statement and muttered, "At least, I _thought_ you were."

"I was."

Cloud's eyes flashed with surprise, shocked by his open admittance. Curious, he asked, "…W-why?"

"Because you strike me as strange too, boy."

Somehow, Cloud detected a smile behind the dark veil. There was a glint of green hidden within the blackness of his face. Or perhaps it was a reflection from the restroom's light? An abrupt feeling of lightheadedness overtook Cloud. Feeling dizzy from it, he bent slightly forward. His eyes drifted to the glassed floor again. He'd definitely had too much to drink tonight. Or maybe it was something else. Crudely, he placed a hand on his crotch, as if to will it from leaking. That damn bladder of his…

"Do you enjoy the company of men?" the stranger spoke again, sounding curious.

Cloud blinked several times, taken aback by the question. He frowned. "I've never considered it." Cloud kept his eyes on the family of fish beneath his feet. As if to prove his point, he added, "I'm into women. This is my first time seeing anything like this."

"Does it offend you?"

Cloud briefly glanced up. Across the restroom, he saw two men lying on the floor. They lapped at each other's cocks. The tensed penis in Cloud's hand stirred. He quickly diverted his attention back to the swimming fish below. Avoiding Black's question, he noted aloud, "You obviously aren't shocked by it."

"You assume correct. Sexual intercourse among men has always fascinated me."

Cloud tightened his hand's grip. This was none of his business. However, it was mildly shocking to know Black was into guys. Boldly, he remarked, "I guess women aren't your thing."

"And what makes you think that?"

"You like men." The boy shrugged. "So you must not like women."

"I'm not exclusive to men," the Host corrected, "I happen to enjoy women very much."

Cloud thought about the woman he was with, recalling the Host burning her nipple. He stared at Black. "But I thought being with men meant you were, well… _exclusive_ to men?"

At this, the tall stranger folded his arms behind him and took one step forward. He leaned forward so that his voice carried strongly. "And who wrote that rule, boy?"

Cloud took a deep swallow and suddenly wanted to disappear. "I-I don't know…"

Silence.

Perhaps Black's occupation as a Host encouraged him to embrace both genders without discrimination, Cloud reasoned. He honestly didn't know and felt stupid right now. Mentally, he debated on how many partners Black had, provided he had any at all. Surely, his status as a Host and the rumors of his disfiguration likely prevented him from sex.

"No offense," Cloud later apologized and ignored his mental ramblings, "That's just… what I heard."

Black finally made a quiet chortle sound. "If only the world operated under pre-defined, black-and-white notions, boy. Wouldn't life be _grand_?"

That last part oozed with sarcasm. Cloud remained speechless.

"Social stigmas, spiritualists, and mainstream media may strive to classify our species into sub-categories as they do at the Frozen Section of a Supermarket," Black proclaimed, "However, I will enjoy the pleasures of man or woman whenever I choose." A gloved hand reached out and tenderly set aside a strand of hair on Cloud's cheek. Soon, the Host asked, "And you, boy? Would you bed a woman just to follow the _rules_ of the establishment? Or would you reap the rewards given to us upon our creation?"

Still hunched in his spot with a hand covering his agitated groin, Cloud stayed within his safe bubble of silence. He didn't blink; didn't move. It was hard to reply when he partly understood the other man's perspective.

It wasn't that he didn't like girls. Cloud adored them. Like many teenaged boys with a raging hard-on, he enjoyed fondling the soft pubic mound between a woman's legs or licking the bizarre lips of a moist vulva with his tongue. But Cloud hadn't explored the unique surfaces of another man or tasted them. Growing up in the conservative country side, it was a taboo to like other boys. It was why he never considered the option.

"You should try it," Black suggested.

"Try what?"

"You should try running the tips of your fingers across the flat planes of another male's chest, boy."

Cloud instantly straightened up and removed his hand from the crotch. "…_W-what?_"

As if to prove his point, the Host rested his gloved hand on the boy's shoulders. A thumb strayed and explored the shape of Cloud's collarbone. Then it followed the curve of a pectoral muscle until it settled on a particular spot. "You should _feel_ his beating heart."

Cloud held his breath. The hand stayed over his heart. Even with the cotton fabric of his shirt, he felt the imprint of the man's gloved hand. The non-stop thumping of his heart throbbed through both ears. With dazed eyes, Cloud intently listened to the strange man's words. They existed from another realm.

The tall man drew close to Cloud. A strong scent of vanilla drifted thick in the air. With his veiled face only an inch from Cloud's, he murmured directly into his ear, "You should feel the warmth of his breath tickle your skin and let it seep through you."

The boy softly blew out, unable to hold his breath anymore. The way Black spoke… He'd never heard anyone talk like that before.

"Perhaps when you realize he is a living animal with similar desires as yours," Black resumed, "you may indulge yourselves in exquisite fantasies and remove yourself from the public's status quo."

So close to each other, Cloud slightly turned his face toward Black. Their lips must've been an inch from each other, he faintly realized. It was hard to tell with the veil in the way. Through its meshed patterns, though, Cloud faintly saw starry green eyes. They stared intensely at him. A predator's eyes.

He exhaled again while his fingers twitched. Completely transfixed by those hidden emerald eyes, Cloud's hand rose. It reached up and stopped at the veils' hem. He touched it. A spark of determination surged within him. The rebellious boy tugged at the veil. He wanted to see that grotesque face everyone talked about. However, right as he lifted the veil up an inch Black grasped his wrist.

The motion was a blur. An instant. It happened so fast that Cloud didn't realize his hand had been stopped until he felt a resistance when he tried to pull at the veil again. He was enthralled by the man's insane speed.

"I'm up," Black informed in a no-nonsense tone. He released Cloud's hand and turned away from him.

Watching the long veil glide behind Black, Cloud was speechless. His entire body felt heavy. Black was certainly an unusual creature. The Host tossed out ho-hum, everyday trivial talk in favor of provocative ideals and concepts. Cloud wanted Black to keep talking. He wanted to listen to those deep rich sounds emanate from the depths of his throat. Unfortunately, the man was next in line. A stall had become available. It quickly reminded Cloud of his own peril state.

By now his half-awake member leaked a drop of piss in his drawers. Fuck. He hadn't realized how close he was to exploding until now. Cloud struggled to hold himself together and placed both hands between his legs now. If another stall didn't open soon he'd spoil his trousers and make a public fool of himself. Cloud's anxiety must've shown. Just as Black took a step forward, he paused and glanced back at him.

"You need to immediately relieve yourself too. Yes?"

Slightly embarrassed by his predicament, Cloud answered with a silent nod.

"Unfortunately, so do I," Black confessed, "I've had too much to drink tonight as well."

Cloud looked at the ground. He mentally counted to a hundred, hoping to distract himself from his body's demands.

"Join me, then," said Black.

Cloud cocked his brow, not quite understanding what he meant.

The other man noted his confusion and clarified, "We can share the same stall."

Cloud considered the offer. He shook his head. "Well, there's a chance another one will open so…"

The tall figure nodded. "Very well. Suit yourself then."

Black headed for the only opened door. Cloud mentally counted again and clutched his groin. His eyes quickly surveyed the area for a new opening. The good news: he was next in line. The bad news? Based on how long it was taking, Cloud suspected the stalls on this side were currently occupied by men secretly jacking off to the orgy. If that was the case he was doomed to wait a bit longer. This left only the urinals at the back side of the restroom. However, they were all still occupied.

With a bladder about to explode, Cloud was tempted to kick down a door and threaten someone's life in exchange for their toilet. But he ultimately decided against it. His best chance was to take up Black's offer. Without a word, Cloud hurried after him.

Their stall was the last door at the back row. Hopefully, Black would be fast about his business since Cloud needed to relieve himself ten minutes ago. He expected the man to quickly get inside it and hurry. Instead, Black casually stopped and turned to him.

"Come," he said. It sounded like a command.

Cloud frowned. "You want me to use it first?"

"No. Like I said, I'm in dire need of this as well."

"Fine. Go ahead and use it. I'll wait."

"You're welcomed to come inside with me."

The boy blinked slowly. He mentally replayed Black's words and was positive he either misheard or misinterpreted them. "…Excuse me?"

Black crossed his arms. In an amused sounding voice, he explained, "Unlike women, we can _both_ go at the same time. It's one of the benefits of having a rod that can shoot at a specific location."

Cloud fell silent.

"Well?" pressed the other man and opened the door. He stood at its entry.

Cloud's brows furrowed. "You mean… we _both_ take a piss? At the _same_ time?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Um…"

"You've used urinals before, haven't you? Same concept. You should be fine. Unless you are one of those reckless buffoons who cannot aim straight and splashes everywhere, in which case, wait your turn." Black stepped inside the stall and disappeared. His deep, leveled voice reached Cloud's ears again when he demanded, "Come inside before I leave you out there, boy."

Outside of the stall, Cloud was stumped. He tried to make sense of what was being proposed here. It seemed this man wanted to take a piss _with_ him. Crap. This was fucking worse than using a public urinal. He'd be peeing only a few inches away from a stranger with a semi-erect cock in clear sight.

Cloud soon felt another small trickle of urine soil his underwear. There was no more time to waste. Either he pissed on the floor with several eyewitnesses or suffered with only one. As fucked up as this situation was, Cloud reassured himself it would be okay. Black was likely drunk. He probably wouldn't remember his face after tonight. Hell, even if he did it was a big city. The chances of them running into each other again were slim to none. Neither of them knew the other's names. It would be okay. Yeah…

"Fuck it…" Cloud muttered to himself and entered the stall. He was drunk enough to agree with Black's insane idea.

Together again, Black closed the door behind them and secured it with a lock. It was just the two of them now, stuck inside a small compact space with only a porcelain toilet between them. There was an excellent view of live fish in the glass wall in front of them.

Cloud didn't breathe let alone talk. No matter how many times he mentally reasoned with himself, it still didn't make this moment any less awkward. Cloud considered turning around and letting the guy have some privacy. However, that still didn't address his immediate need to use the toilet right now. His concern was eventually cut short when Cloud noticed the tall man remove his leather black gloves.

The thick leather material slowly peeled off. As Cloud stood idly by, he saw slender fingers appear one by one. The nails were long and coated with silver paint. It was the first time the man exposed any skin. The teenager blinked; surprised they weren't burnt or disfigured as he had initially thought. The man's ivory skin was smooth and flawless. There were no unwanted blemishes, wrinkles, or popping veins. No signs of age or stress. The pale color served as a sharp contrast to the dark attire. It subtly glowed under the restroom's lighting.

Reactively, Cloud glanced at his own hands. Sweaty palms. Some cake frosting underneath unevenly cut nails he often chewed. Discolored calluses from constant sword practice. A few scars from the times he'd been careless with his blade. Cloud almost felt unworthy of seeing such beautiful hands next to his.

He couldn't stop staring. There was something sensual about the man's hands, the way they were curved and milk-white. Cloud wondered how red the blood would flow if the veins on his slender wrists were ever severed, especially against such porcelain skin. Within the depths of his young mind, a dark desire emerged. Cloud wanted to sink his teeth and cause that beautiful skin to bruise. These strange musings continued while Black's delicate fingers carefully placed the leather gloves inside his coat's pocket. They soon glided elsewhere.

It was the sound of an undone metal buckle that finally brought Cloud's attention to the man's current actions. Watching Black work the button of his expensive trousers, the boy's mind suddenly ran rampant with a collection of half-developed thoughts. Cloud didn't dare meet the man's gaze, fearful his curious nature would betray him. He set his eyes low and took a deep breath. The tips of his fingers twitched. In contrast, Black possessed all the ease and gestures of a talented artist. He was soundless and swift when he pulled the zipper down. Those same lovely fingers soon slipped inside the black trousers. A second later, they pulled out an impressionable muscle.

This was the first time Cloud observed another man's cock. He was surprised to discover it was semi-erect like his. A flushed tip barely poked out of the foreskin. Like the majority of city boys, Black had been cut. The trimmed foreskin conveyed a light shade of pink with a smooth and bumpy texture. The muscle was of noteworthy size despite its half induced state. Eight inches seemed to be the magical number it hit when stretched to the max, Cloud predicted. Black's size was definitely not small or ridiculously large. It was ideal. Cloud found himself studying the ragged line of one particular vein. It subtly popped up along the side of the shaft.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking, boy?"

The question returned Cloud back to the land of Gaia. Flushed at the cheeks, he quickly looked away from the notable vein. The audible amused sound from Black indicated he wasn't uncomfortable or upset by his intrusion though.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit…" Cloud cut himself off. He let his words drift into silence.

"You've seen one of these before," the other man testified and lifted the toilet's lid up with the heel of his black boot. "You obviously own one. There is nothing to feel embarrassed about."

Sure, he'd seen one before, Cloud thought. But it was _his_, not anyone else's. Cloud tried to keep his wits about him. He miserably failed and fell into silence again instead. Even when Black's words made sense he didn't feel any better. He figured Black viewed this as a natural, non-sensual event since he'd been in the company of men. This was normal for the Host. Cloud, on the other hand, hadn't been with a guy. This wasn't an average, everyday event for him at all: it was completely new and surreal. Cloud licked his lips. When his bladder screamed at him again he knew he couldn't dilly-dally around the issue anymore.

"Go on," urged the man next to him, as if reading his mind.

The muffled sounds of the club's music and the moans from the nearby orgy bounced off the walls. Cloud focused on the electric beats and colorful fish that swam outside the glassed wall in front of him. It'd give him a nice distraction. He undid the button and zipper and revealed his own semi-hard structure.

Unlike Black, Cloud was all natural. Many country boys in the Nibel area weren't cut. Black's perfectly trimmed shape was a sharp contrast to the long, flimsy layer of loose foreskin that housed the entire head portion of Cloud's strained member. This made the teen more self-conscious. Seeing their cocks side-by-side like this, he was tempted to cover himself. Cloud forced himself to relax though. It seemed stupid debating which penis looked _prettier_ when the organ in question looked silly regardless.

Cloud held back a sigh. The bulging sight of veins that pulsed across his length was apparent. It was difficult to stay soft when the muscle between his legs reactively twitched. Whether it was because of the orgy scene outside or Black's dominating presence, Cloud did not know. Nor did he _want_ to know.

"How old are you, _birthday boy_?" Black inquired and broke their silence.

The mocking tone was apparent in Black's voice. Initially, Cloud chose not to reply in retaliation. He wasn't in the mood to talk anyway, not when he was exposed and mortified by his obvious condition. The other man didn't move or say another word though. Black expected an answer and was willing to wait for it. Reluctantly, Cloud revealed at last, "…Seventeen."

The other man turned his head away. Black aimed at the designated area and went about his business.

Cloud forced himself to commit the same action. Only half hard, he was still able to shoot into the bowl with no issues. He held onto the base with both hands and adjusted his stream so that it didn't overlap with Black's or cause unnecessary splash. Releasing excess from his bladder, Cloud instantly felt relieved. He averted his eyes back to the glassed wall in front of him to further relax. Along with the fish that swam about, there were words and pictures left behind by former occupants of this stall. A few phone numbers. Juvenile depictions of a penis. Quoted sermons of the end-of-days.

Cloud took a deep breath and continued emptying his bladder. He regretted not being drunk or high enough to completely dismiss this event as hilarious. Or ignore his natural curiosities. As he stood close to Black, it was almost impossible not to take in the shape of the other man again. Cloud's eyes drifted back to the protruding vein he noticed before. He admired the way it wrapped around the side like that.

At the other side of the restroom, the heavy sounds of sex continued. Cloud could hear a man's husky voice echo. "_There we go… There we go… Deeper. Harder. Fuck me harder… Yeah…_"

The words were laced with primal lust; an intense want for pain and pleasure. As much as he wanted to blame the alcohol and drugs he'd consumed tonight, the erotic noises that erupted in the restroom did turn Cloud on. He closed his eyes. Admittedly, he enjoyed sex in the times he engaged in it. The rush of blood… The sound of hot, sweaty skin smacking loudly… The musk of his own ready cock… Those tiny details gave him pleasure. Perhaps it was the lack of it in his life right now that made him want it even more. Even when his conservative upbringing clashed with the sexual prowess of his youth, the vulgar act of sex permanently stayed in his ever-expanding mind. To witness an orgy and stand beside a man who offered him a clear view of his sturdy length… It awakened outraged yet excited thoughts.

Cloud exhaled through his mouth. He kept his eyes closed but sensed the taller man bend forward. He was grateful Black did not berate him for his silence, especially when he felt at odds with himself right now. Invading another man's intimate space provided him with a new experience. Cloud didn't anticipate how intense it would be until now. He refused to open his eyes, fearing it would push him back to his reality and cause him to break away.

Side-by-side, Black's veiled face felt not far away from his. Cloud could sense his presence and wondered if something would transpire between them soon. The possibility surprisingly did not terrify him. Just inches away from Black, that tiny gap between them almost made their distance unbearable. Cloud's breath hitched. Moments passed. A stillness settled in the air. Black drew closer. And then…

_Flush_.

It was the sound of their toilet. Quickly opening his eyes, Cloud suddenly realized his companion was done. Black withdrew his hand from the sensory box that manually activated the flush. He now stood at full height. Slowly blinking, Cloud discovered his own bladder had been emptied. He was no longer shooting a stream. Dread gradually hit him though when he noticed something else. His eyes cast down. They widened in horror.

Cloud had been so lost in his thoughts, so lost in the moment, that he hadn't paid attention to the muscle in his hands until now. It stood at a proud six-and-a-half inches; rigid and pointed at a high angle. He was fully erect. When Cloud looked up, he found what he desperately prayed was not there. Fresh urine streaked down the glassed wall. _His_ urine. Cloud could feel the color drain from his face.

Careless. He'd been so fucking _careless_. Unknowingly losing control of his stream, he'd become one of those _reckless buffoons _Black barked about earlier. This was worse than that time in Chocobo Chow when he ran out of toilet paper and hurried to the next stall, only to find none there either.

Fearful of a disgusted face hidden by the black veil, Cloud didn't dare look back at Black. He could already feel eyes on him. They'd been on him the entire night. This moment was no different. Cloud wasn't sure whether to stay quiet or dump his head inside the toilet water and commit suicide. The latter certainly beat living out the rest of his years with tonight's horrific memory at the back of his mind. It didn't help that the looming figure remained motionless either. Cloud wondered if Black was that mortified with him. The Host hadn't spoken a word since he asked for his age.

It was around this time Cloud caught something peculiar at the corner of his eye. He looked. Black's own member. Cloud saw that well-cut and perfectly shaped penis was stretched to full length. It stared up at the ceiling, all eight inches of it. That particular vein Cloud had taken a fond interest in now budged and expanded outward. He strangely felt relieved by this. Granted, Black hadn't been as foolish as him; he didn't piss on the wall. Still, he currently suffered from the same physical distress that haunted him. Black was rock-hard. It made Cloud's own fragile condition more bearable, even understandable.

He was a bit curious over what set Black off. However, his thoughts were cut short when the Host carefully slipped his sturdy muscle back inside his pants. A zipper pulled up, soon followed by a secured buttoned. Black unlocked the door and stepped outside without a word.

Cloud stayed in the stall. Dumbfounded. His teeth clenched together while he growled to himself. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_…"

The youth's face rushed with furious color. Smelling the stench of his own urine in the stall, Cloud quickly gathered toilet paper to clean up his mess. He muttered a slur of incoherent curse words. How could he have been so _stupid_? He was such an idiot. Shaking his head and continuously berating himself, Cloud managed to wipe off the piss. He dumped the toilet paper in the bowl shortly after and flushed it. Kicking open the door with his foot, the teen left the stall.

No surprise: Black was already gone. The entire restroom lacked his presence. No doubt, he quickly wanted to get rid of the pathetic teenager who'd pissed all over the wall. Like a reckless buffoon. Irritated again, Cloud approached a sink and washed his hands until they smelled of soapy mint. Then he marched out of the restroom, feeling moody as ever.

Cloud stood outside the restroom and decided it was best to return to the booth. He was ready to put this night behind him once the others were ready to leave. Even the desire to take someone home had died out. However, his body grew rigid when he spotted a familiar dark figure straight ahead.

Black stared back at him; his head cocked to one side. No sooner did Cloud spot him did the strobe lights flash on and off. Within a blink of the eye, he disappeared.

Cloud's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure if that was a figment of his imagination. Black wanted nothing to do with him. Right? Cloud's eyes shifted left to right. They wandered across the club scene in the hopes that what he saw wasn't just the illusion of a drunken and hopeful boy. When he relocated the mysterious Host at the dance floor, though, he confirmed his suspicions. Surprised, Cloud wondered how Black had crossed several feet of distance within a span of only a few seconds. It was impossible. No man could walk that fast. Yet, there he was. Cloud's heart quickened its pace when a ceiling light soared over Black. He vanished again.

Was this a game? An illusion? Did Black want him to follow him?

Cloud spent the next few minutes trekking the Host. He ventured deeper into the club and watched the tall figure drift in and out of the crowd; a mere shadow amongst the land of the living. One moment Black stood next to a pair of dancers, the next he was near a pool. Cloud wondered if the alcohol and drugs truly affected his perception. He had a hard time keeping up with him, especially when the darkness of the club cloaked Black. Glimpses of colorful light and holographs posed as constant distractions. A flicker of movement here; a flicker of movement there. Distinguishing reality from tricks of the mind became harder and harder. Cloud stood in a daze, feeling both tensed and excited. His stomach suddenly twisted at the sight of an ominous shape at the center of the dance floor, standing among a sea of moving people like a statue. Black looked to Cloud's direction. He waited. For him.

Cloud's eyes struggled to focus. Somehow, the music became distorted; slower. The bodies of dancers continued to move while a ceiling's blue light glazed over the entire dance floor. Black remained at his spot. It was clear he would remain there for however long it took Cloud to come to him. A familiar sensation brought the teenager to his senses. Thankfully, he was drunk enough not to care. If Black unveiled his maggot-infested face and swiftly decapitated his head, so be it. Yes, that sounded ridiculous. But in Cloud's compromised mind it was the inevitable conclusion for tonight's birthday celebrations. Black had, after all, burned off a woman's nipple. Either the Host wanted to dance with him. Or devour him. Far be it for him to reject such a challenge.

Suppressing whatever concerns that popped in his head, Cloud headed for the dance floor. Like a moth drawn to a burning flame, he mused. Even when he felt guilty for his unintentional actions in the restroom, Cloud was relieved Black still wanted to see him. He pushed his way forward. The crowd in the dance floor was tightly compacted. It was impossible to see past a few feet or gather enough personal space to avoid bumping into anyone. His ears throbbed each time the drums pounded in rhythm. He could hardly breathe within the mass of bodies. His delirious mind feared he'd pass out from a lack of oxygen before he reached Black.

Arms waved in the air. The attendees screamed in rejoice. Cloud's head shifted left to right, feeling lost and claustrophobic. He wondered where he was in relation to the center of the dance floor. Near? Far? Black was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had missed him. Or perhaps he stumbled into a wild goose chase. Licking his lips, he looked back at the direction of his booth. Cloud entertained the possibility of returning to the safe zone. Away from black shadowed figures. He shouldn't have come, a tiny voice whined. Cloud didn't know why he did, especially after he made a complete fool of himself in the restroom. He mentally scolded himself for his lack of good judgment.

Cloud frowned when he noticed the people in front of him stop dancing. They stepped away from him, as if to offer him space. But it wasn't out of courtesy. Cloud realized they weren't looking _at_ him: they were looking _behind_ him. Shortly after the realization hit, Cloud suddenly sensed that familiar dark presence from before. He could smell a vanilla scent in the air.

Cloud didn't get the chance to turn his body around to see Black again. Two slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind. The enigmatic Host pulled him closer until their bodies made contact. A puff of hot air escaped Cloud's lips. He felt the warmth of the other man's body transfer to his skin. His head unsteadied now, Cloud struggled to keep his balance. He still wasn't sure what to make of this. He didn't know why he'd come; why he was here. But it somehow felt right. Cloud closed his eyes. He pushed back against the tall figure behind him and, together, they danced.

Their bodies swayed back and forth. Unhurried. Carefully. Even while the other dancers moved fast and impatiently, they kept to their own beat. Cloud had never imagined himself dancing with another man. He started to understand Black's words earlier. Men were no different from women. Of course, this Host wasn't like other people. With his long veil and terrifying height, Black gave off a unique vibe. He was dangerous. Elegant. And extremely hypnotic. His mystery appealed to everyone, regardless of gender. Cloud doubted he was the only man in the dance club taken by Black's presence. It was this mutual feeling that helped suppress any unease. Cloud allowed himself to accept this bizarre moment for what it was without the fear of public scrutiny or harsh personal judgment.

Cloud gradually loosened his rigid posture and corresponded with Black's steady rhythm. They still hadn't faced each other. Pressed against his back, Black stayed behind Cloud. In a way it helped. It made the whole situation less pronounced. Cloud did not flinch when leather gloved hands explored his body. They slid dangerously close to his navel area before gliding up the long vertical path that divided his abdominal muscles. Tilting his head back and letting it rest on the man's sturdy chest, Cloud softly sighed and opened himself up more.

He'd never been the type to embrace his body's assets or indulge in foreplay. Only seventeen years old, the conservative country boy from Nibelheim was still learning the ropes of his sexuality. And patience. It was a strange period in his life, riddled with questions and social-related concerns. He just wanted to fit in. Nevertheless, Cloud dived nose-deep into the giant unknown. He felt the electric heat of his body intensify as he grinded against the other man. Another dizzy spell hit Cloud. His fully erect length ached for attention. Shifting uncomfortably against his inner thigh, it was trapped by the confines of cotton fabric. Cloud moved his hips in a small circle. He rubbed himself against Black's nether regions.

The music's momentum picked up. When the dark figure thrust his pelvic forward, Cloud reacted by pushing back to meet him. Despite the clothes that prevented actual contact, his body burned with want. This had to be the most erotic situation Cloud found himself in. And with a man no less. He did not care. Whether it was the alcohol or some idle curiosity that came forth with a vengeance, Cloud chose not to care. He'd worry about it another day.

Soon out of breath, the blond-haired youth opened his eyes. They drifted upward at first and absently observed the large lanterns and holographs that swam above them. Their forms sparkled and glowed. Cloud's clear blue eyes drew down. He watched dangerous, slender hands roam across his body. One slipped under his shirt. Foreign fingers teased the structure of his stomach's muscles. The other hand followed the length of Cloud's right arm until their hands interlocked. Black lifted his arm in the air and bent it slightly back toward him. The boy took note of the action and wrapped his arm around Black's neck. It brought them closer to each other. Cloud shuddered when two fingers clasped around his nipple and gently pinched it. Black lowered his head and brought their cheeks side-by-side.

"Do you feel this?" his steady voice reached his ears. "Do you feel _me_?"

Cloud sucked on his lower lip. He barely stifled a groan; his only response.

Covered by the veil, Black's breath blew against him when he slightly turned his face. Black-meshed lips grazed across the hot surface of Cloud's cheek. The boy didn't dare meet his face or stare into his covered green-lit eyes. There was something delicious about Black's complete anonymity after all. It gave the boy permission to divulge in any sinful fantasy without planting a specific face to it. Black could essentially become nobody. And everybody. He could even become his personal god and savior.

As their faces rested cheek-to-cheek and they danced, Cloud spread his legs slightly apart. The inquiring boy couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be taken by behind. He had an idea of how men coupled. He saw it in full display back in the restroom. Initially, the idea grossed him out. Getting his shit shoved in didn't sound appealing at all. But as Cloud stood with his back pressed against Black's, he did enjoy the heavy mass of another man's body over him. The mere thought of Black violently mounting him like an animal was a terrifying vision that actually excited him.

Close together, Cloud used this opportunity to slide his body back and forth over Black's pelvic area again. He felt the budge he saw earlier and deliberately rubbed against it. For a second, Cloud thought he heard a soft chuckle from behind. But it could've been the music or some other dancer. The eager boy committed the action again though and hissed when that budge slid directly between his buttocks this time. Black placed both hands on Cloud's hips and guided the teen directly to him.

"…You smell of unrelenting lust, boy," Black's veiled mouth breathed out against his cheek.

The baritone sound of Black's voice resonated deep in Cloud. It coursed all the way to his toes and brought the tiny hairs at the back of his neck up to their ends. Cloud bit deeper into his lower lip when Black pushed into him again. Harder this time. They followed the music's lively beat like the rest of the crowd; all while simulating a provocative and vulgar act. A lingering moan leaked out from the boy's throat, soon lost to the loud music. Despite their layers of clothing Cloud could still feel him. He opened his legs a bit again to gather more of the sensation. Black's thrusts followed the song's fast tempo. His entrapped erection pushed against its intended location. Cloud's arm wrapped even tighter around the neck. It was partly to keep his balance and partly to encourage Black their vicious dance.

Gradually, Cloud's body coiled with friction and anticipation. Saliva filled his mouth. Any time he sucked in the air through gritted teeth he drooled at the corner of his lips. The teen could already feel his underwear grow damp by the transparent drops of pre-release juices. Cloud didn't care. He wanted more of this. He enjoyed being naughty and bold for once. Inwardly, the youth hoped they would continue this and bring each other to release. He wasn't far.

It was midway into their dance that Black unexpectedly turned the boy around. At last, they faced each other. Cloud swallowed hard, trying to breathe. Their budges directly touched. He could feel his tip boil. Somewhere within the teen's wild fantasies, he entertained the image of their hands digging deep into each other's pants. They'd mutually bring themselves to climax. However, Black made no move to push them closer together. Nor did he touch Cloud. Rather, Black observed him in that same calm, collected demeanor of his. The Host silently bowed his head and their foreheads touched. The dark veil hung between their faces as a type of barrier. Yet, the flimsy material also transported them to a private, more exclusive world. It was just the two of them now.

For Cloud, it was as close to a spiritual experience he could ever have. He recalled the time he entered a church in the city. There was an air of quiet solitude. Stillness. Feeling an invisible magnetic force draw them together, Cloud wondered if Black felt the same thing. Was this the special connection people wrote about in poems? Or performed in films? Cloud didn't pay attention to the club's music or people anymore. His universe revolved around black meshed fabric and hidden green eyes. Those eyes… they possessed all the simple desires of a predatory animal.

_Despair_. It was a promise the child would never forget.

Feeling the breath of the other man through the veil, Cloud knew he was not the only one transfixed. Black stayed within an inch of him and didn't move away. His concealed eyes were locked on Cloud's blue irises. It was as if the Host was looking for something there. He apparently discovered it because one gloved hand gradually rose and touched the side of the boy's face. Reactively, Cloud rubbed his cheek against the leather. Inviting him to touch him more. It was such a radical reaction, especially on behalf of an otherwise traditional country boy. The memory of Black's beautiful pale hands came to mind and Cloud suddenly craved for skin contact. _Physical_ contact. He suspected Black felt the same way. Black's thumb now gently trailed the bottom of his fat lip and lingered there for a long time. Cloud surprised himself by sliding out his tongue and briefly licking the thumb there.

At this point, he debated on whether to lift the veil and steal a kiss. It didn't matter if Black's face was a distorted mess. Or if he was a guy. Or a Host. Or if it was the booze talking. He wanted to kiss him. Cloud waited a moment. Then he did the unthinkable and took the initiative. He grabbed the veil's hemline as he did before. Surprisingly, Black did not resist this time. The Host stood and watched him. Cloud waited another second before taking a deep inhale. He slowly raised the lacey black cloth inch by inch. Preparing to meet his bride, the boy was ready to seal tonight's unusual encounter with a kiss.

Cloud only got as far as uncovering the chin before he felt a hand on his shoulder from behind. The blunt action forced him to stop. Cloud looked back with a questionable frown on his face. He dropped the veil when burning blue eyes returned his gaze.

"Run along, silly boy," advised a red-haired man of tall height. It was one of the blue-eyed Hosts; the aristocrat. He soon added, "This one's fire burns too brightly for you. You'll likely be scorched alive under his touch."

The Host kept his hand on Cloud's shoulder. Effortlessly, he pulled him away from Black, as if he were a disobedient child. Cloud stumbled and nearly fell backward. He regained his footing and glared at him.

Indifferent to the reaction, the tall red-cloaked man stood between them. He turned away from Cloud and directly addressed the veiled creature. He murmured, "The wandering soul knows no rest, I see…"

Black simply crossed his arms behind him and stayed silent.

Confused by this intrusion, Cloud soon spotted the other two blue-eyed Hosts nearby. Their bizarre eyes shined like mirrors blazed with blue light. Approaching first was the raven-haired youth. He removed the e-cig from his lips and observed Cloud with an amused expression on his face. It was as if he knew some terribly funny joke. The lively boy kept silent though and merely covered his mouth to suppress a laugh. Next to him was the muscular Host. Thick brows pulled together. For some reason, this man looked displeased. He shifted his cool-blue gaze back and forth between Black and Cloud. When they finally stopped at the veiled man, he shook his head in silence. Clearly, he was not happy.

Cloud returned his attention back to the dark figure. He wanted an explanation. His skin boiled, however, when he found the red-haired Host now placing both his hands at the sides of Black's veiled face. He leaned forward and gently kissed the lips hidden behind the black shroud. Both men stayed close to each other. Intimately close. Cloud took a step forward; both shocked and severely pissed by this unpleasant change of events. One moment he shared bliss with Black. The next…

Cloud growled under his breath. He didn't care who this red-haired creep was, he wanted to punch him. The well-built Host with dark hair, however, abruptly blocked his path. His massive body loomed in front him. Glowing blue eyes penetrated Cloud again. This time the man's expression was warm.

"You'd do best to leave," he spoke in a soft but concise tone. His deep voice conveyed concern, perhaps even sympathy. With a sigh, he added, "Trust me, it's for the best."

The teenager felt his blood turn cold when the red-haired gentleman looked back at him. The finely dressed Host offered Cloud a smile that was anything but genuine.

"My friend, the fates are cruel," the Host announced in mocking fashion. He tenderly stroked Black's veil with idle fingers, still looking back at Cloud. "There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess."

For some reason, his words sounded familiar. Cloud heard them before. However, at this moment he didn't care to know of their origins or significance. He wanted to wipe that smirk off his pretty face. The muscular man in front of Cloud stood his ground though and blocked him again. He was practically a human-made concrete wall. Against him, Cloud knew he'd be sent to the ground with one punch. This reality did not stop the teen as he still struggled to push past him. He needed to reach Black. Driven by wild emotions, Cloud was determined to fight on; to fight for that connection he felt. However, his spirit soon deflated when he looked over the big guy's shoulder. He caught a glimpse of Black.

The tall figure now danced with the red-haired Host. Under a collection of brilliant lights, their bodies pressed close to each other; their gazes locked. The red-haired man claimed Black's body. He slid his leather-clad hand between his legs and caressed the sensitive budge there. They were two beautiful and terrible beasts, standing together as one. Not once did Black look back at Cloud.

Cloud's shoulders slumped. His energy dissipated. He took a slow step back. Tight-lipped, the big guy in front of him noticed the defeat in his eyes and gave him space. He nodded his head though, as if to say he was making the right decision. It was time for him to leave. Relaxing his hands, Cloud forced himself to turn away. He noticed the raven-haired boy again. He no longer smiled or appeared amused. His blue eyes were soft; the shine dimmer. Like the big guy, he looked concerned. Cloud softly scoffed and looked away from him. He didn't _need_ his or anyone's sympathy.

Quickly, Cloud walked off the dance floor. The critical voice in his head snarled and ridiculed him as he cut through the crowd.

Once again, he'd made a complete fool of himself tonight. This was penance for all the dirty thoughts and actions that had transpired tonight. Or would've, at least. His soul would forever burn in hell for what he'd done or desired, Cloud bitterly thought. He quickened his pace. Glassed blue eyes burned but he fought back the unwanted sensation. Big boys didn't cry. Cloud refused to give in to his broken emotions. He'd been rejected many times in his life. However, this one admittedly hit deep in the gut. He felt a link with Black. He thought the feeling was mutual. But Ele' was right: Black was a giant cock-tease. The Host had played him like a puppet master. It was his job.

Entrapped in a sour mood, Cloud finally returned to his booth. He found Wedge awake. The others had returned from their dancing frenzy as well. All of them currently enjoyed a good laugh. Jessie was the first to notice and welcome him back with a shy smile. But Cloud silently slipped inside the booth and refused to look at anyone. He was back in his usual spot. In front of him he saw the table menu's interface. Even in his drunken state, he decided to order himself a few drinks to get over his inner turmoil. Across the table, Ele' noticed the tight-lip expression on Cloud's face. She frowned.

"What's up? You okay?"

Cloud's fingers danced across the table's menu without looking up at her. "Yeah. Why?"

"You look… off."

"I'm fine," he quickly dismissed. Cloud browsed through the drinks menu again.

"Haven't you had enough to drink?" Biggs snickered. Drunk himself, he rubbed his tired eyes with the palms of his hands.

Cloud ignored him. He selected a few options. Then he briefly paused and studied his hands. Even when they smelled of fresh mint, he had a strong desire to clean them again. He wondered if he still smelled of _unrelenting_ _lust_. Curious, Cloud asked no one in particular, "Do I smell funny?"

Wedge halfway snorted and laughed at the strange question. Meanwhile, Ele' and Jessie exchanged a puzzled look. Biggs merely shook his head.

"No, man. Why?"

"Never mind." Cloud's fingers flickered across menu. He ordered fifteen shots for himself.


	9. Weirdoes

**Author's Note:** _ This is a dark chapter, fiends and beasts. It contains violence and implied situations with a minor. 'Hard Candy' and Kubrick's 'Lolita' are among my fave movies. Both feature underage, manipulative characters who are basically wolves dressed in sheep clothing. Expect to see that here._

* * *

CHAPTER 8: Weirdoes

It was roughly three-twenty in the morning when a light rain fell from the sky. Cloud and his companions walked down a long, empty sidewalk in the Entertainment District. Billboard and neon-lit signs flashed around them. Dazed from the night's events, they were on their way to a parking garage a few blocks away. It was time to head home. At this late hour the moon lit up brightly and the air was chilly. _Whoosh_-like sounds came from the few passing cars that dashed across slick, wet roads.

Cloud's group stayed close together. Midgar always possessed an edgier vibe during these strange hours; wicked thoughts conspired and played out. Persistent dealers and thugs kept a watchful eye on potential targets while shady drivers cruised the streets to hire a warm body for pleasure. And of course, there were the weirdoes. They came out in droves to conduct all manners of perversions. It was because of this the group kept to the main roads and stayed in visible sight.

Cloud dragged his feet forward, his face puffy and red. With each step he took, the weight of gravity fought him. It was as if he were at the edge of a cliff, at the brink of falling. The vision ahead of him, meanwhile, consisted of blurred colors, lights, and shapes. They swirled all around him. At times he saw a small black shadow among them. It moved within the industrial landscape of the Sector 8. Cloud couldn't tell if the shadow was a mental trick played by his muddled mind, even when it had two arms and two legs. Nothing felt real to him anyway.

Swaying back and forth, Cloud wiped hot sweat from his brows despite the cool weather. He clumsily tossed his Chocobo Chow shirt over his left shoulder, tired of holding it in his sweaty palms. Cloud idly wondered if he should take off his heavy coat. He found himself too weak to remove it. A dizzy sensation threatened to tip him over but he held his ground.

"Are we _there_ yet?" Wedge asked beside him, addressing no one in particular.

The group shuffled their feet against the sidewalk's pavement as they walked. Biggs mumbled something in return, sleepy by the alcohol and late hour. Only Ele's reply sounded coherent enough.

"Almost. I think. Maybe. Just a few more blocks…" she said very slowly.

"Gods," Biggs complained. "That's what you said fifteen minutes ago."

"I said we're almost there. It's this way. Definitely this way, man. Don't be an ass. Relax."

"I'll _relax_ when I get home," he griped back and clutched the sides of his head with a moan.

Cloud kept quiet throughout their bickering. He, himself, was tempted to stop walking and take a nap on a nearby bus stop bench. It certainly beat dragging his dead weight across Sector 8's wet streets. Stuck in his half-aware state, he whispered out of the blue, "There are shadows everywhere. The shadow baby follows. It's been there since we left the club. It's come to take me away, I think…"

Ele' raised a brow at Cloud's bizarre remark. He had said it so calmly that it baffled her even more. Fully aware he was the drunkest of them all, though, she led the way without saying a word. She kept an eye out for any Shinra infantrymen on the streets, lest they'd be arrested for public intoxication.

They walked for a good ten minutes. The plan was to pick up Ele's car from the garage and have her drop them at the train station for their trip to the Slums. However, Cloud suspected they were either lost or Ele' had underestimated the walking distance since it was taking too damn long. His patience waned. He was tired. Thirsty. Disoriented. The world refused to stop spinning and a tiny dark figure kept appearing. Small matters of irritation started to build like certain street smells, loud noises, and flashing images. Cloud wanted to burn everything to the ground and find a warm bed to crawl into.

Sometime later, a car honked at Cloud when he accidentally strayed from the group and mistook the middle of a street for the sidewalk. The vehicle swerved and barely missed him. Brakes shrieked as the car came to a halt. Cloud's all-too-sensitive eyes burned from the blaring lights of the car's beams. The noise of its screeching tires still echoed in his head. With a blank look on his face, he approached the driver's side. His quiet and calm demeanor abruptly changed when he slammed his fist against a gray-tinted window there. The glass cracked at the point of impact.

"Watch where you're going," Cloud snapped with venom.

Trembling, the driver gripped the wheel with white knuckles. His wide-eyed expression stayed on the stiff-faced boy outside his widow.

The driver's silence started to annoy Cloud. It reminded him of all the preppy brats in Nibelheim, those stupid little boys who thought they were better than him and refused to talk back. The blond-haired teen sneered at the driver. "What are you looking at? You think I'm crazy? Get out of your car; I'll show you _crazy_. I'm real good with heavy sharp objects."

The drunken teenager banged on the glass again to goad the driver out of his vehicle. More tiny cob-webs formed on the window. Cloud looked ready to tear the driver's head off with his bare hands until Biggs and Wedge quickly intervened. Together, they pulled Cloud back to the sidewalk and gave an apologetic look to the driver. The driver sped off as fast as he could.

"Whoa, Cloud," Wedge started and blinked profusely, "You're terrifying when you're drunk…"

"I'm not drunk," Cloud denied. He spat out a wad of spit on the ground. "That car nearly ran me over. You saw it. I'll stab that fucker in the heart if I see him again."

Biggs exchanged a look with Wedge. Both boys held onto the unruly teen's shoulders, trying to steady him. And contain him. Cloud eventually growled and slapped their hands away. He created some distance and now stood in front of a large window display with finely dressed mannequins. His back pressed against the window's glass. Cloud glared at his companions when he noticed the puzzled looks on their faces. In his delirious mind, the expressions looked similar to the village kids', the same ones who all thought he was a freak.

"Stop looking at me like that," Cloud ordered with intense blue eyes.

"It's cool, man," Biggs said with a tiny smile that quickly broke apart a second later. "It's cool. We're cool. It's just… You need to chill a bit. You're not yourself."

"Not myself? What the hell does that mean? I'm _fine_."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to piss you off, bro. It's just that you're normally a quiet nice guy. You're kinda freaking us all right now."

"_Quiet nice guy_?" Cloud carefully repeated. At this, he snorted. "Wow, you dorks really are clueless…"

A slow smile stretched, even when Biggs appeared baffled by that last remark. Cloud's chuckle soon echoed across the empty block. His husky sound seemed to loosen the tensed atmosphere because now everyone awkwardly smiled. Laughing along, they all assumed it was a terrible joke. But for Cloud it wasn't. He had been brutally honest.

Silent now, the shade in Cloud's blue eyes darkened as he felt an ounce of pity and frustration toward his friends. Whether it was the booze or the drugs or sleep deprivation, an uncomfortable revelation struck him hard at this moment: no one knew who he really was. When he had busted the nose of a nagging customer last week, everyone assumed it was a momentarily lapse of reason on his part; an accident. Some even considered the act noble. Cloud had received only a write-up for it and the assault charges were dropped. No one wanted to believe he could be brutal enough to act out in violence.

They were wrong.

Cloud never mentioned his violent streak back at home to his friends. None of them knew violence was his coping device, a way to deal with the loneliness and anger that boiled inside. In truth, the real Cloud Strife, the misunderstood misfit of Nibelheim, had fallen in love with war and self-destruction. It was hard to think of anything else when he found only social alienation and indifference from his hometown. Nobody liked him and so hating on everyone and everything became second nature to him. Those feelings worsened after the incident in Mt. Nibel.

About the only moment that ever made Cloud feel alive was his near-death experience with a great wolf. Shortly after that event, he had developed a deeper fondness for hunting wild animals. It made him feel significant and superior. Like a God.

He had moved to the city in an effort to change his circumstances and mindset. In his naïve mind, becoming a Tsviet would put his violent habits to good use and give him a purpose. He could become a hero and not the villain in his story for once. And yet, Cloud still recalled the time when the village's priestess had visited his mother, just a day after he had broken a boy's arm during a fight. The priestess had called him a naughty boy; a very troubled, _corrupted_ soul. Cloud somewhat agreed with her assessment. On some days he wanted to save the world. On other days he wanted the world to burn.

Cloud grimaced. Leaning against a window display, an unwanted sensation swirled inside his stomach. Nausea. Making a face, he felt the vomit force its ways up his throat. Cloud clutched at his stomach with a hand. Then he turned away from the group and pushed his forehead against the glass, breathing hard.

"I need to puke or something…" he barely uttered out through clenched his teeth.

His friends stayed put. Their eyes darted back and forth.

"You think he'll be all right?" Jessie quietly asked. She sucked on her lower lip, deeply worried.

"He's good," Biggs reassured her. "Heh, Cloud isn't much of a drinker though. He'll be lucky if he remembers anything after he sleeps it off. Not bad for his first day as a seventeen-year-old, eh?"

Wedge shook his head. "He's been acting funny ever since he returned from the dance floor. He kept muttering about a black color pissing him off. A black crayon or something."

"Black isn't a color," corrected Ele'. She winced in disgust when she saw Cloud suddenly kneel over and puke on the glass wall. "For fuck's sake, how many drinks did he have?"

"A _shit-ton_," Biggs grimly reminded her while Cloud purged. "I'm surprised he's standing at all."

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the nausea temporarily subsided and Cloud tried to stand at full height. He failed. Fatigued and feeling worse than before, the teen leaned sideways against the display window for support. His eyes drifted below. Cloud silently watched chunks of vomit stream down the squeaky-clean glass while he overheard the group talk about him. His jaw reset itself.

Cloud hated being the topic of discussion, as if he were some charity case. Granted, if he were a sober man he might've felt guilty for his current behavior. Cloud didn't want to burden anyone with his pathetic state. He also didn't want to frighten the only people he considered friends with his strange tendencies. But at this moment, he couldn't care less for what they thought about him. He was numb to the point of indifference. About the only thought that tentatively surfaced in his head throughout the entire evening involved a man: Black.

Black. Black was gone from his life. He hadn't said goodbye. Not that Cloud expected him to. Black didn't strike him as the sentimental type. He was a strange creature who existed outside this realm of normalcy. Nonetheless, Cloud was disappointed by the lack of closure between them, especially when he thought he felt a connection.

Shortly after he had reunited with his coworkers at the booth and drank down his shots, Cloud had spotted Black one last time. It was the sight of his long, glorious veil. It had trailed behind Black as he exited Club LIFESTREAM with the other Hosts. That had been an hour before Cloud left with his own party. Black never did look back nor look his way. Just like that, Black was gone.

The image of Black with Red still burned inside Cloud's memory. It was a reminder of the brief but bitter encounter. If he were a stronger man he would've slashed off Red's pretty face and fed it to Ms. Tinker. He'd never regret the action, not when skinning wild sport was second-nature to the young hunter. But the event that happened between him, Black, and Red was over now. Black had departed from Cloud's life. All that was left to do was head home and sleep it off.

Cloud covered his mouth when the urge to vomit came to him again. Provided that he survived the night, he hoped he felt better by tomorrow. He still had a late afternoon class to attend. A dizzy sensation was getting the worse of him, likewise, his warped and out-of-controlled thoughts. He made a face when he noticed something on the glass's reflection.

"That shadow baby is back…" Cloud notified quietly. His unfocused eyes stared at the glass wall in front of him, seeing something the others hadn't noticed.

"Shadow baby?" Biggs asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Shadow baby," Cloud repeated, talking gibberish again. "Behind you guys. It's kinda short. Not really a baby." As if to prove his point, Cloud turned around to point at a particular spot on the sidewalk. He froze when he realized something. Cloud frowned and later said, "…Not there anymore."

"Dude, you seeing things now?" Wedge scoffed. "Damn, you really are fucked up in the head. Remind me to never let you take blue dust again."

"The shadow baby was there," Cloud declared but had trouble controlling the volume of his voice. He stumbled forward and nearly fell in the process. Then he stopped at a specific spot on the sidewalk and pointed down with a finger. "Here. The shadow baby was _here_."

Both Ele' and Wedge snickered together while Jessie kept quiet. Biggs stepped forward from the group shortly after. There was a giant smirk on his face.

"Was it _Dr. Evil_?" he played along, "Is the mad doctor on the prowl tonight? Is he after you, Cloud?"

Cloud was too drunk to give a retort. His weakened legs finally gave way and he collapsed on the concrete ground with a soft thump. The world spun again. He groaned and shut his eyes.

"He's coming to get yoooou, Cloud," Biggs continued with an exaggerated voice pitch.

Almost immediately, Wedge marched over to Biggs and punched him on the arm. "Gah, stop it, man. It's not funny. That Dr. Evil shit is real, you know."

"Shh! I think I hear him!" Biggs continued and ignored Wedge. He looked down a street and noticed a lonely car driving up. He pointed at it. "See? It's him. It's Dr. Evil. That's his car. That's the car the mad scientist uses to abduct his victims. He's come to get Cloud. We should probably hide."

Somewhere in the distance, car beams shined. Its engine hiccupped loudly. This caused the entire group to go silent, including Cloud. Wedge huddled closer to Biggs while Ele' gripped her PHS, as if to use it as a weapon. Jessie took a few steps toward Cloud. She looked ready to pull him off the ground at a moment's notice. All five drunken teens stayed still until the car finally came into better view. It was an old sports car model. Quickly driving past them, the group breathed again. It was nothing. Wedge's face contorted to a disapproving pout when Biggs burst into laughter.

"Gaia, the looks on all of your faces!" Biggs blurted, "It was priceless. You guys seriously thought it was Dr. Evil? Oh man, you guys are fucking idiots!"

"Shut up, man, you were pissing in your pants too," Wedge spat. The larger teen punched him again, nearly knocking Biggs to the ground this time. "Asshole."

As Jessie helped Cloud get to his feet, the blond-haired boy mumbled an obscenity under his breath as well.

Fucking Dr. Evil… He was a popular online myth. The stories described Dr. Evil as a mad scientist who stalked the city late at night in a beat-up pinto. He searched for fresh bodies to experiment on. Drugging his victims with a syringe, the _successful_ experiments would find themselves in a tub of ice with a cellphone nearby to call for medical attention. To their horror, these victims would discover their bodily organs had been removed and replaced by bizarre alterations. They lived the rest of their lives as freaks. As for the _failed_ experiments? They were taken to some undisclosed location and never seen or heard from again.

It was all bullshit, Cloud knew. The Dr. Evil folklore legend had been intended to frighten brats like him; to get teens off the streets by night time. But even in a thriving metropolis like Midgar City, people talked. Rumors spread. Online, there were photos of supposed 'freaks' who'd been the unwilling subjects of a mad man's experiments. Some had committed suicide, too horrified to live with their condition. With so many strange and unexplained disappearances happening in Midgar City, including the number of fleshy corpses that randomly popped up, it was hard to entirely dismiss Dr. Evil.

Thunder rumbled in the sky. A bit wearier of their nocturnal surroundings, Cloud and his party cut through Thirty-Fourth and Thirty-Fifth Street to get to the parking garage quicker. It was quieter in this area of Sector 8. Even while the billboard signs still blinked and a few animatronics stayed alive, all of the restaurants and stores were closed. At the other side of the street was a massive metal fence. It surrounded a construction site for a strip mall. A lonely bus stop sat in the middle of the sidewalk across.

The group was ready to cross another street when Cloud abruptly stopped walking. Nauseous and tired, his intoxicated mind decided this was the perfect spot to rest. Cloud plopped himself in the middle of the sidewalk without saying a word. Using his Chocobo Chow shirt as a pillow, he lay on his side and closed his eyes. He ignored the light rain that continued to fall and immediately went to sleep.

"What the fuck?" Ele' immediately kneeled next to Cloud and tapped him on the shoulders. Cloud did not wake up. Looking around, she hoped there weren't any Shinra IMs around the corner to arrest the inebriated fool. Luckily, only a car passed by and no one else appeared in this area. Again, Ele' tapped him, this time harder. "Cloud, damn it, wake up."

"Mmm, gimme a sec, mom…" Cloud mumbled back and huddled inside his thick coat for warmth. His mouth started to drool over the wet, cold pavement he slept on.

"Fuck, man, you're sleeping in the middle of the sidewalk like a bum," Biggs spat. He tried not to laugh. "C'mon, Cloud. Get on your feet. We gotta keep moving. The parking lot shouldn't be far now. Ele' will drop us at the train station and I'll walk you home."

The dead-drunk teen below moaned incoherent words under his breath. He rolled to his other side, away from the group, and continued to sleep. Wedge kicked at the body. It was partly to wake Cloud up and partly to make sure he was not dead. A few feet away, Jessie covered her mouth. She hid the goofy grin on her face with both hands. Cloud was thoroughly wasted; beyond all reason and hope.

"Well, we can't go any further," Ele' announced with a sigh. She crossed her arms. "Even if we drag him along, an IM will surely spot us."

"We'll have to bring the car around to pick him up then," Biggs agreed with a nod.

"In that case, let's get Cloud off the sidewalk right now," Jessie suggested. "We don't want any Shinra troopers to see him like this."

Both Biggs and Wedge exhaled loudly and reluctantly grabbed Cloud from under his armpits. They dragged their fallen comrade to a nearby restaurant's patio. Placing Cloud at a table next to a large artificial tree, Biggs rested his face on the Chocobo Chow shirt. He opened the table's upraised umbrella to keep him dry from the drizzle.

"Aw, man…" Wedge whined afterward and rubbed the sides of his head. "I feel like my melon is gonna explode. I'm totally not looking forward to the trip below. I just wanna sleep."

"Me too…" agreed Biggs. He slightly wavered to the left but regained his balance.

"You guys can crash at my place," Ele' offered. She yawned and later admitted, "I don't think any of you are in any condition to travel to the Slums. The gangs are bad down there at this time."

"Seriously? We can stay at your place? Sweet!" Wedge beamed. Then he looked at Cloud and nodded at his sleeping form. "But what about him? You got room for Cloud at your place too, Ele'?"

Before Ele' could reply, Jessie chimed in: "I-I can take care of him."

Everyone turned to her with a look of surprise.

"I live in the Slums too and need to head back anyway for my morning shift at the car shop," Jessie explained, her voice small and quiet. "I can t-take Cloud with me. My car is only four blocks away."

Ele' raised a brow. "Wait. I thought you were a Plate resident. You're in the Slums?"

"Mm-hm."

"Isn't it kinda pointless to have a car then? Access to the underground is limited to the train. There's no road that leads down there."

A tiny smile formed across Jessie's lips. Her voice sounded more confident when she said, "Not unless you got the whole schematics of the city and know the tunnel that can _also_ access the underworld."

Ele' cocked her head to one side. "I wasn't aware such a thing existed."

"It's a spiraled shape service tunnel that runs within Midgar's main pillar structure," Jessie revealed, "It's reserved for the Urban Development staff. Construction workers have been using it to commute back and forth while they work on the outer wall structures of Midgar's plate and pillars. High-ranked Shinra officials have also used it for emergencies."

"Aren't there security protocols though?"

"There are. But I mimicked a legit badge to bypass security. And because so many construction workers use the tunnel, as far as anyone is concerned, I am a part of the Urban Development team."

Ele' sounded impressed when she inquired, "How did you access this information? I thought you were just a car mechanic, Jessie."

"You're looking at a genius," Biggs butted in with a proud look on his face. He put an arm around Jessie's shoulder. "She is a fucking wizard with the computer."

Jessie softly scoffed. "Er. I-I wouldn't say I'm a _genius_. I just know my way around with a computer."

"Fuhito, himself, gets some of his information from her," Biggs added. "Jessie's a part of his AVALANCHE movement. It's kinda cool."

"Fuhito is an environmental nut job," Ele' dismissed quietly. She glanced at Cloud's sleeping form afterward and returned her attention to Jessie. "You sure about this? I mean, I can take him with us."

"It's no inconvenience to me. Really. I'm headed below anyway and can take care of myself. At least Cloud can sleep things off at his home and not worry about riding the train with a big hangover in the morning." Jessie looked up at the sky. The drizzle fell faster and lightning flashed.

Next to her, Biggs frowned. He looked at Jessie. Then at Cloud. Then back at Jessie. Something clicked in his head and almost immediately, he suggested, "Maybe Cloud is better off crashing at Ele's place instead." He grinned and told Jessie, "But you can take _me_ home."

Jessie slowly removed Biggs' arm from her shoulders. She stood next to Cloud and addressed Ele' again. "You guys should go now before the rain really comes down."

Ele' held back a chuckle when she noticed Biggs shove both his hands deep into his pockets and glare at the motionless body of Cloud. Then she turned to Jessie and simply said, "Have _fun_."

A rosy color filled Jessie's cheeks.

To Wedge and Biggs, Ele' silently motioned for them to follow her. Biggs mumbled a few quiet words but ultimately trailed after the girl. Wedge waved a goodbye to Jessie. Then he joined the two. Their figures crossed a street corner and disappeared at the next block.

Staying behind with Cloud, Jessie checked his forehead for a temperature. There was a moment of silence, accompanied only by the gentle sounds of light tapping from the drizzle. Jessie's hand stayed on Cloud's face a moment longer. The dim light in her brown eyes softened. Jessie studied specific features while one finger set aside a stray hair from his cheek. The small gesture stirred Cloud awake.

"_Mm? What?_" Cloud started. With sluggish movements, he lifted his head up from the table and frowned. "What's going on? Where is everybody?"

Cloud saw no one else aside from the strange brunette-haired girl standing next to him. He vaguely recognized the street. The entire block was quiet, save for a distant siren and low-sounding thunder above. Cloud wiped saliva off the corner of his mouth with a thumb as he studied his surroundings again. Then something caught his attention. He blankly looked ahead at the fenced-off construction site. His eyes stayed glued to the large Shinra billboard sign posted there. Cloud pursed his lips.

"Shadow baby…" he muttered, not making any sense again.

"_Shadow baby?_" Jessie repeated and stared at the same direction Cloud looked right now. She saw only a large Shinra advertisement sign covered in shadows. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Returning her eyes back on Cloud, she dismissed his paranoia and soon informed, "Um, th-the others have gone ahead. I'm gonna take you home right now. Y-you, uh, feeling better?"

"The others are gone?" Rubbing the back of his aching neck, Cloud looked away from the construction side. He pieced together what Jessie just disclosed and sighed. "You should've gone with them. No need to stay behind for my sake. I'll walk to the train station by myself, thanks."

Jessie made a funny sound through her nostrils. "Don't be silly. You were sleeping on the sidewalk just moments ago."

Cloud blinked. "I was?" His brows pulled together when he realized he was at a patio. He had no idea how he got there.

"Yea," Jessie confirmed with a soft chortle. "You're in no condition to move."

"I'm fine though," he insisted. "You don't have to stay. I can take care of myself."

As if to prove his point, Cloud tried to rise from his seat. His unsteadied legs wobbled back and forth under his weight. Nausea hit him the moment his sense of balance shifted too quickly. Cloud covered his mouth and tried to swallow the bile down. It was too late. Quickly, he fell toward the large artificial tree next to his table and puked inside its pot.

"Just sit tight while I get the car," Jessie implored and bit on her lower lip. "I'll be back fast. I-I promise."

Cloud wanted to protest but couldn't. Jessie hurried off while he spilt more of tonight's contents into the unfortunate tree pot. In his drug-induced paranoia he feared he'd vomit blood or a vital internal organ. He obviously did not. Completely alone now, Cloud wiped his mouth with a hand and breathed hard. Like a ragged doll he lay sprawled across the patio's bricked floor. Cloud felt a little better. A good day's worth of rest would greatly improve his condition, he mentally concluded. Unfortunately, now that his stomach had calmed an unpleasant flavor settled over his tongue.

With the light rain still falling, Cloud crawled out of the protection of his table's umbrella. He raised his head and caught a few raindrops in his mouth to rinse off the bitter, acidic taste there. Almost immediately he stopped and grimaced. "Gross…"

Cloud hadn't noticed it until now. Whereas the rain back home was fresh and clear, the rain in Midgar City tasted funny. The flavor was too sweet and thick, like syrup. Cloud studied the orbs of mako energy in the sky. They continued to leak from the mako reactors and dance in the air. Even the thick clouds above emitted a soft green glow. Licking his lips, Cloud recalled the conversation he shared with Biggs.

His coworker had claimed mako was poisonous. Cloud's mother felt the same. She denounced Shinra as a constant polluter of the planet. Cloud dismissed these declarations as personal prejudices. The idea Shinra would knowingly contaminate the air with toxics sounded ridiculous, especially when mako energy had always been a part of the planet. The entire human race would've died ages ago if it was bad. Even so, the taste in Cloud's mouth right now did inspire many questions. He watched the tainted raindrops collect on the bricked pavement and wondered if there was some truth to the stories.

Cloud paused from his thoughts when a small black shape appeared at the corner of his eye. It came from the construction site; the same spot he had noted earlier. Cloud moved behind the artificial tree to stay out of view. Then he squint his eyes at the large Shinra billboard sign. Was it his imagination again? No. It was the _shadow baby_.

Cloud called it a shadow baby because it was no more than four-feet tall. Small and thin. The shadow baby currently walked away from the billboard sign it previously stood beside and now appeared on the sidewalk directly across Cloud. The tensed teen remained behind the tree trunk, too reluctant to move. His vision blurred while his heart thumped faster. A moment passed. The figure stepped into the light of a street post. As the image came into clearer view, Cloud's lips parted. It was a boy.

The child carried a very large, black lacey umbrella over his head. Casting a deep shadow over his face, Cloud only noticed the child's finely dressed attire: a private schoolboy's uniform. It was composed of dark olive-green colors that looked black under low lighting. The boy donned the standard necktie, shorts, calve-high socks, and glossy ankle shoes. His white collared shirt was layered by a well-fitted vest and double buttoned jacket. This boy was obviously a high-class citizen of the Plate.

When the preppy boy playfully twirled the umbrella to one side, Cloud caught a glimpse of his profile. Plush lips were the perfect shade of ruby pink. The lashes were long and thick. His flawless, porcelain-white skin seemingly glowed under the streetlamp's lighting while his hair shined with a peculiar silver color. Cut into a stylish bob, the boy's long bangs were shifted to one side of his face and held back by two crossed pins. Had it not been for his gender encoded uniform, Cloud might've mistaken the child for a girl. The pretty schoolboy looked somewhere below ten-years-old. Despite his tender age, he strolled alongside the tall metal gate of the construction site with an air of confidence. His naked fingertips carelessly glided through the chained-link fence and produced a soft _cling-cling-cling_ sound.

Rain continued to fall, this time in thicker drops. The boy's face became an assortment of shadows beneath his umbrella again. Approaching a lonely bus bench, he stopped and took a seat. His umbrella stayed over his head while he removed a large lollipop from his well-tailored jacket. For Cloud, it was strange seeing a schoolboy at this time of the night. He wondered where his guardians were or if he was a runaway. Cloud's eyes soon drifted to the sweet treat in the boy's hand. It glowed and shared the same green color as the orbs of mako energy flying in the sky. The child undid the plastic wrapping and stuck the lollipop inside his mouth. Then he looked at Cloud's direction. Visible large green eyes gleamed. The boy somehow knew he was behind the tree. For whatever reason, his lingering stare reminded Cloud of… Black.

Studying him, Cloud debated on whether to approach the child or not. It seemed odd to spot him at a place like this. Either his presence was a coincidence or he'd been following him this whole time. After all, the shadow had appeared ever since Cloud left Club LIFESTREAM. It showed up everywhere. At least that's what Cloud thought. He wasn't quite sure of it himself. It could've all been one grand illusion; an illusion created by a reckless teenager who couldn't think straight at the moment. Cloud softly blew out air from his mouth. Regardless of why the boy was here, it didn't feel right to leave him alone. He was better off hitching a ride in Jessie's car than waiting out here for the bus during this late hour.

Just as Cloud decided to talk to the boy, a vehicle soon appeared at the street. He momentarily froze. The car was a high-slick vintage model with four doors and a bronze paint job. Hard gill went into the rim tires. The car rode along the path until it slowed down and got closer to the bus stop. Behind the tree, Cloud kept out of sight. His shoulders turned stiff.

He was still paranoid by the Dr. Evil spook earlier and feared the worse when the vehicle stopped in front of the child's bench. Cloud held his breath. He expected a sinister scientist dressed in a white lab coat to pop out with a bloody syringe. Instead, an old well-off fellow in his late seventies emerged from the vehicle with a gold cane. He sported a beige penciled suit and a thick grey beard. The elder wobbled toward the bench with his cane and took a seat next to the child. He spoke a few words but the schoolboy kept sucking on his lollipop.

Cloud remained unnoticed by Greybeard and his two servants in the car. He couldn't overhear the conversation across the street. It was said in soft whispers. He assumed the rich man thought the same as he did and wanted to give the boy a lift. Cloud's lips drew into a thin line though when Greybeard placed a trembling, wrinkled hand on the child's thigh. The elder leaned closer to whisper something into the boy's ear. Then he planted a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek. It was a simple yet bizarre kiss. Cloud didn't understand the awkward vibe he got from it or why the knots in his belly suddenly tightened. This uneasy feeling only intensified when the silver-haired boy responded with a giggle.

It was a lively, brilliant sound. Innocent and very child-like. Even so, Cloud detected notes of indifference and mockery in the boy's melody. He saw the boy lick his lollipop again while his large green eyes illuminated brightly. Eerie eyes reflected all the dark lust of a predator.

"_Such a pretty little boy…" _Cloud overheard Greybeard coo.

The old man made a gesture with a shaky, boney finger. He pointed at his car. Several times he did this, begging the boy to come with him. When the child did not comply he kissed the child's cheek again and again and again, as if he were worshipping a prized pet. Cloud winced in disgust. Great. A weirdo, he realized. The smacking sounds of Greybeard's loud, clumsy mouth reached his ears all the way across the street and caused his insides to turn. Cloud was already put off by the old man's appearance. He despised his pale flaky skin, his beady black eyes, and the pattern of discolored aging spots across his bald scalp. Cloud imagined all sorts of discarded food particles stuck inside that thick grey beard. The thought of it sickened him.

_"Pretty, pretty boy,_" the old man said in between his wet kisses, "_Yes, a pretty little darling…_"

Cloud was relieved when Greybeard finally stopped kissing the boy. A hoarse-sounding laugh now erupted from him. Cloud noticed the slobbery mess he left behind on the child's cheek. It shined with a thick layer of saliva. The teenager was repulsed by it all, especially when Greybeard appeared more proud than ashamed of his work. The old fart took the small boy with both his scrawny arms and set him on his lap. He wrapped an arm around the boy's thin waist. The other hand settled back on the thigh again and traced the bottom cuffing of his shorts. Slowly rocking him back and forth, Greybeard hummed a lullaby to the child.

Cloud halfway scoffed from his hidden spot. He expected the schoolboy to push Greybeard off or run away. At the very least, yell for help. But the silver-haired child did neither. In fact, he seemed unbothered by the whole event. His free hand kept twirling the handle of his large umbrella while both legs bobbed up and down as he sat on the old man's lap. He ran the flat side of his lollipop along his bottom lip before taking it deep inside his mouth. A second later he removed it with a loud pop. The boy was obviously indifferent to Greybeard's actions. Even as the elder tried to tickle him, he didn't laugh. Green eyes eventually found Cloud again. They stayed on him for a while.

The elder cooed at the boy one more time. Despite his failed attempts at tickling him, Greybeard continued to touch him. His fingers explored the visible bare areas of ivory skin. The crane of his neck. The top of his knees. It was when a thumb slipped beneath the fabric of his shorts that the child removed the lollipop from his mouth and finally faced Greybeard. Time crawled to a stop.

Cloud leaned forward from his spot to get a closer look of them. He saw the child hold the lollipop between two fingers. His palm slowly touched the surface of the old man's head and followed along its egg-like shape. The boy's green eyes shimmered. There was a look of fascination across his youthful face, as if the sight of a wrinkle-faced man delighted him. Perhaps the sharp contrast of age struck his childlike curiosity, Cloud wondered. He saw a gentle smile form on the boy's ruby-pink lips. Underneath the light of the nearby streetlamp, he looked like an angel.

The boy really was beautiful. Cloud couldn't deny this. In a way, he understood Greybeard's fascination with the child, even if the reasons bothered him. His long limps and peculiar features… he seemed almost too lovely for this world. There was definitely something special about him. And familiar. Again, Cloud thought about Black. He recalled the Host's grace and silence. He remembered the predatory vibe he emitted. Black was beauty and beast wrapped into one. It was the same for this boy. His green eyes possessed all the vigor of a deprived wild animal.

Greybeard held the child closer to him with both arms, pressing their cheeks together. It was at this point the large umbrella shifted directions. Cloud caught a brief smile from the schoolboy before he and the old man disappeared behind it. Their faces were now blocked from his view. Cloud frowned.

He knew the boy had intentionally moved the umbrella to that position. Only he was aware of his presence and exact location. The action admittedly annoyed Cloud for reasons he either did not know or want to admit. Sitting in complete silence, his curiosity eventually got the best of him and he tried to pick up on anything that transpired behind the large umbrella with his ears. Cloud managed to hear Greybeard's voice. Because the elder spoke in hushed tones he couldn't make out what he said. His ears did pick up a familiar, awful wet sound. Cloud chewed on his lower lip as it grew in volume.

The longer Cloud listened to the two the more awkward he felt. In all honesty, he couldn't decide whether he wanted the noise to stop or continue. He had a funny feeling the schoolboy suspected this too because the distorted smacking sounds resumed without opposition. It was as if the child deliberately wanted Cloud to hear them. The blond-haired teen suddenly felt dirty as he debated what went on beyond the lacey umbrella. The material of it was too thick to make out any silhouettes. Cloud's mind raced with many wild possibilities. They ranged between the vulgar to the horrendous. Had he become a weirdo too?

Staring at the umbrella nonstop, Cloud developed an urge to walk over there and chop off the elderly man's shriveled balls. It would serve him right. He had no right to touch the forbidden fruit. These dark thoughts continued until the irritating wet noises finally stopped.

Cloud froze in place when a low moan emerged shortly after. It was a long and very deep sound. Raspy. Cloud became disturbed by its single, lingering note. Changing in tone and volume, this groan grew louder. And louder. The tiny hairs at the back of Cloud's neck rose. His face turned pale white when a wail abruptly switched into a high-pitched scream.

It echoed loudly across the street. Even while the rain fell and an adorable Cactuar cartoon danced across a flashy billboard sign close by, it continued. A dull, thick sound finally interrupted the scream. It was followed by a strange gurgling noise.

From the ground, Cloud clung to the tree trunk with both hands and breathed hard. The blood rushed to his head. He didn't know what the hell just happened. The blood-curling scream seconds ago had him in fight-or-flight mode. Cautiously, Cloud rose to his knees from the ground. His sense of balance was worth shit but he held onto the tree. He took a small peek around the corner and noticed the umbrella had moved aside. Cloud was almost too terrified to get a better look but dared himself anyway.

Across the street, the boy and old man appeared in his sights again. At first, Cloud didn't understand what he saw. In his dazed, drugged state the whole scene appeared almost comedic. Greybeard rapidly pulled away from the child. That bizarre gurgling sound Cloud heard came from him. For whatever reason, his mouth and the child's were filled with crimson. The old man fell backward. His fragile bones cracked the moment he hit the hard pavement. Cloud was surprised he didn't accidentally snap his neck in half. Sitting on the bench with crossed legs, meanwhile, the silver-haired child cocked his head to the side and played with the umbrella's handle again. He silently watched the old man whither in agony with unblinking crystal-green eyes. The child currently chewed on something that wasn't his lollipop.

It was around this time the driver and other servant stepped out of the fancy car. Both of them were six feet tall and somewhere in their forties. They ran to the old man's side and squatted next to him. Cloud observed them with mild amusement. He still wasn't sure what to make of this due to his disoriented senses. The weird sounds the elderly man made on the ground were either of a wounded animal or a bitch in heat. Cloud stifled a chuckle at the latter thought. As he watched Greybeard's broken body, he admittedly took some satisfaction in it. Cloud recalled his own encounter with a pervert at the train earlier this morning; the businessman. Those feelings of anger and resentment returned. Cloud's piercing blue eyes stayed on the wounded elderly man. He almost smiled.

"_You little brat!_" suddenly cursed one of Greybeard's companions. "_I'll kill you!"_

Cloud noticed the two men lunge for the boy. He frowned when his vision abruptly blurred. Across the street, the silver-haired child moved from one spot to the next at rapid speed. Lines of light and colors swirled around his small frame. Surely this was not real, Cloud thought. It had to be the chemicals in his body creating this illusion. There was no way anyone could move _that_ fast. Nonetheless, the child appeared next to Greybeard's car a second later. He climbed on top of its expensive hood and sat on the roof with crossed legs. His red-soaked mouth swallowed down whatever he'd been chewing on.

It was raining hard now. The chilly air bit into Cloud's skin. One hand dug deep into his coat's pocket and gripped the PHS there. For a moment, he contemplated on calling for help. It was the only idea he could think of. It seemed like the right thing to do in this situation. Cloud paused from this thought though when both of the servants removed a switchblade. These guys meant business. They wanted to kill the boy for what he'd done to their master. Cloud had no idea what Greybeard's condition was from his spot. The elder kept thrashing about on the sidewalk. Those terrible gurgling sounds continued. Cloud's hand slowly let go of the PHS.

Even if he called for help there were no Shinra IMs in the immediate area. By the time they arrived, the child would be dead. Admittedly, Cloud also didn't want to involve the authorities for his own sake. He couldn't risk getting scanned for illegal substances. They'd arrest him indefinitely once he checked positive for them. Getting to his feet, Cloud grabbed his Chocobo Chow work shirt from the table and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He knew none of this was his business. And truth be told, he felt Greybeard got what he deserved. But Cloud couldn't stand back and watch two grown men charge after a kid. They were better off leaving him alone and getting their master to a nearby hospital. Perhaps if he knocked some sense into them the situation would diffuse itself. That's what Cloud hoped for anyway. Taking a few steps forward, he ignored his raging headache and upset stomach.

All sense of reason nagged at Cloud as he crossed the road, his legs feeling like clay. Reason told him this was a bad idea and to call for help. He ignored it and hurried anyway. By the time Cloud reached the other sidewalk, the situation got bad. Both men surrounded the car. One of them reached for an ankle to grab the boy. He hollered in pain when his hand was smacked by the large umbrella. The child laughed, taking delight in their feeble attempts to catch him. It was a game to him. His lips glistened with red. When he suddenly noticed Cloud a few feet away, the boy stopped laughing and stared at him.

The teenager felt naked under the child's heavy gaze. From where he stood, Cloud got a closer look at his eyes. A mystifying jade color, they glowed with the same brilliant intensity of the blue-eyed Hosts he had met tonight. But there was something different about the child, something more. He wasn't like the others. With slant-like pupils, similar to a feline's, Cloud was taken aback by this angelic yet strange child. His blood-red mouth formed a small, very sweet smile. It was as if he'd been expecting him.

Greybeard's weak moans reached Cloud's ears nearby. The teen looked back at the old man on the ground. He definitely needed medical attention since there was blood all over the sidewalk. When Greybeard opened his mouth to mutter something, Cloud realized the old man couldn't talk: he had no tongue. It'd been ripped off.

The ghastly sight of him prompted Cloud to take a step back. In all of his years of hunting, he'd never seen anything like this before. But there wasn't time to understand or accept this horrific discovery. Wild and intense, the men that were after the schoolboy hastily climbed the car with knives drawn out. Their blades scrapped against the car metal as they tried again and again to climb without slipping. The falling rain prevented their progress but Cloud knew it wouldn't last for long. He quickly snapped out of his bewildered daze. Dropping his Chocobo Chow work shirt on the sidewalk, the teen approached one of them from behind. He held the hand that gripped the knife by the wrist. Cloud entangled the man's other arm with his own and pulled him away from the car.

"_Back off,_" Cloud ordered as he wrestled the man. Even when his pupils were over-dilated and he had trouble just standing, his voice still carried an even and hard tone.

The two servants must not have perceived him as a threat or dismissed him as a drunk since neither of them reacted to his presence until now. The man in Cloud's grip tried to break free.

"Who the hell are you?" he barked.

"Someone who isn't going to tell you twice." Cloud's hand squeezed the man's wrist tighter to indicate he meant business. "You and your posse should mosey out of here. Get the old fart to a hospital before he bleeds himself to death."

"Fuck you_._"

The big guy tried to push him off while the other got down from the car to focus on him. Cloud knew the score. It was two armed men against one unarmed idiot. With odds like that, either the chemicals in his system had given him illusions of grandeur or he just didn't give a damn. It wouldn't be the first time Cloud had his back against a wall. He'd gotten into a countless number of fights like this before with little regard for the consequences. Not that he minded it too much. He liked the challenge of overcoming great odds in order to prove his worth. It made Cloud feel alive.

Granted, the country boy lacked the physical strength required to pulverize his opponents. But Cloud did possess speed and agility. His mother had taught him the value of maximizing his personal assets and choosing his targets wisely. Cloud chewed on the insides of a cheek as he debated on his next move though. He had managed to hold back one of the men but the other remained a problem. Cloud gritted his teeth. If he hadn't been forgetful this morning he'd have his trusty knife on him right now and make minced meat of them. Slightly frustrated by this, he made sure his nails pierced the delicate skin of the man's wrist he gripped. He overheard his grunts and curse words and found satisfaction in those sounds.

"We're gonna fuck you up real good, pretty boy," the second servant up ahead promised.

Cloud didn't doubt that. Briefly, he checked back on the boy. It was about to get nasty real soon. Surprisingly, the boy did not appear worried. He made no sound nor moved from his spot. His mirror- green eyes observed Cloud as he licked his lollipop. The blood on his lips was a gruesome reminder of what had happened. Cloud suspected what this child had eaten. Still, he couldn't concern himself with that awful revelation right now. He noticed the umbrella in the boy's hand and an idea came to him.

"Mind if I borrow that for a sec?" Cloud asked and nodded at the umbrella.

In silence, the child complied with the request and offered it to him. Cloud had no choice but to release the servant in his arms to grab it. It was that, or risk getting punched in the face the moment he let go of one of his hands. Cloud kicked the servant forward, hard enough to throw him off balance. As the guy fell to the ground, he quickly took the umbrella from the boy. It would do as an improvised weapon. He had worked with less before.

"Time to bust your cherry, pretty boy," yelled the second male after his partner was released.

The attack happened so fast that there was only a second to react. Cloud dodged left as the man swiped with his knife. A line of hot pain instantly registered over his left bicep. The teen bit back the pain though and gripped the umbrella in the same manner he held a practice sword. Even in his incapacitated state, natural instincts and years of training kicked in. The armed man pushed forward for another attack. Cloud side-stepped out of the way and this time avoided the hit altogether. He brought the umbrella downward and smacked the man's arm. Something broke and the servant screamed. Cloud wasted no time with a follow-up attack. He thrust the umbrella directly at his throat. The force of his hit was powerful enough to break the apple there. Gasping, the male dropped to his knees and clutched at his neck with both hands. His knife dropped and skidded across the rain-soaked sidewalk.

One down, Cloud thought. It was a victory short-lived. He noticed the first man getting to his feet. He was considerably bigger than his partner-in-crime. Cloud promptly kicked at his face to push him back down. He didn't want this creep getting up again. The servant fumbled and lost his grip on the knife. He shielded his face when Cloud kicked at him again and again and again. Bones cracked. Blood splattered across the pavement. The teenager did not stop. He aimed for the man's stomach, his chest, his face, and anything else that annoyed him. Cloud's attacks became fiercer when he caught the sight of a busted nose and split cheek. He wanted to break this man; to tear him apart. This determination blinded Cloud. His desperate victim managed to grab the offending foot with both hands. Yelling like a dying animal, the man held onto it until he got to his knees. Then he used all of his strength to fling Cloud backward against the car. The teenager smashed the passenger's window. Glass shattered everywhere.

Sharp tingles of pain were felt across Cloud's back. While his thick coat managed to cushion most of the damage, he knew a few pieces had embedded themselves in his skin. The teen cursed while he stumbled out of the car's window and dropped forward on his knees. A second later, the big guy appeared directly in front of him. He delivered a powerful punch across Cloud's mouth. His lower lip instantly burst in a fat pool of hot blood. Another punch came soon afterward. Cloud shifted his head to one side to lessen the blow of it. His cheekbone instantly stung at the point of impact. A third punch landed on his temple. Briefly, Cloud's vision was reduced to specks of lights and colors. His eyes rolled back from a powerful dizzy spell; it was a result of chemicals and heavy hits. A terrible ringing started in his ears. Caught between the man and the car, Cloud had no escape.

"See? We told you we were gonna fuck you up," the bloody man reminded him with a twisted grin on his face. A few of his front teeth were missing while the crooked nose bled all over his chin and chest.

Cloud hurt everywhere but the poor sight of the man was actually hilarious. He probably didn't look any better himself. Luckily, he was too high and numb to care for his own condition at the moment. Cloud chuckled. Even as he choked on his blood and ached from the fresh opened wounds, he continued to laugh. His laughter must've pissed the man. Seconds later, Cloud received a swift kick to the stomach.

"You think you're tough?" the servant yelled and kicked him again, "I'll fucking _split_ you in half." He turned and glared at the child on the car. "And you're next! Don't think I've forgotten about you."

Silent as always, the silver-haired child merely sucked on his lollipop. He ignored the threat and kept his exotic green eyes on Cloud. They never left him.

The child, Cloud slowly recalled. The teenager sat up from his spot and rubbed his bruised belly with a palm. He still needed to protect the boy. It was why he came. Briefly, an unwanted memory surfaced in Cloud's thoughts. He remembered the last time he tried to protect someone. It didn't pan out so well.

Already, Cloud saw a mental image of Tifa. Her crimson-brown eyes stared at him while she fell; a thick cloudy abyss below her. He could see her fall second-by-second. Her long gorgeous hair expanded outward. Her hands reached for a place she could no longer grip. As Tifa fell, she screamed his name. Her scream echoed to him, even when she disappeared from sight. It haunted him every night.

Cloud's hand gripped the umbrella's handle. Ignoring the pain on his stomach, he rose to his feet and confronted the large man. His voice was calm and quiet when he said, "Hey. We're not finished yet."

The big guy frowned. He looked back at him, admittedly surprised. Cloud used this brief moment of shock to his advantage. He thrust his improvised weapon forward and popped one of the man's balls with it. Cloud tackled him to the ground soon afterward. They landed together with him on top. The teen ditched the umbrella and resorted to his bare fists. Determined to finish what he had started, Cloud hit the male servant with all the fury inside him. Each time a punch connected, a wet-like _thud_ echoed. It didn't matter if his own knuckles bled or if the man was losing consciousness, Cloud kept punching him. Again. And again. And again. It was only until he heard the muffled sound of a familiar moan and gurgle that he finally stopped. The teenager looked up.

Greybeard was still alive. He had lost a lot of blood but his head was turned. His eyes stayed fixated on Cloud. They didn't blink. Even as he bled from the mouth, the old man weakly whimpered. He was now afraid of the bloodthirsty teenager. Of the monster.

The rain finally stopped. An uncomfortable silence settled over the city. Breathing hard, Cloud returned his attention to the broken servant he currently straddled. The man was a real mess. Both of his eyes were blood-shot and swollen. Air barely escaped his quivering lips. He reminded Cloud of all the boys he'd beaten up back home. In the end, they all looked the same: pulpy. Not far away was the second servant. He still struggled to breathe. His larynx had turned into a harsh purple-black color now.

Something inside Cloud broke. His hands shaking, he didn't know what it was but his eyes burned. He slowly looked up at the angelic creature above him. Cloud didn't know why he did. Perhaps he wanted to find forgiveness for tonight's sins. Perhaps he thought the child could give it to him.

Light from the street post showered over the child. It caused his thick lashes to cast long shadows over his green eyes. There was warmth in them. As the child studied the carnage around him and saw the red on Cloud's hands, his beautiful bloody lips curved into a smile. A look of adoration formed on the angel's delicate features. Cloud could only stare back, transfixed. The angel neither judged nor condemned him. It was as if everything had been preordained and he had his blessing. He had passed a great test. Yet, despite his triumph, Cloud felt broken inside.

More aware of himself now, he glared at his sticky fingers. Everything had happened so fast; his actions on auto-pilot mode. He hadn't noticed how bad he hurt these people until this very moment. Cloud's eyes burned even more and a loose tear escaped his right eye.

His mother always warned him about his uncontrollable bouts of aggression. They got the best of him, she used to say. There definitely was a lot of deep-rooted anger Cloud reserved for the world and himself. It was why Mrs. Strife tried to channel it elsewhere through the hunts and sword training. Nevertheless, she still had faith in her boy. She had told him many times he would find his way; his light. He would become something greater than the world imagined him to be. He was not a monster. Cloud briefly closed his eyes.

He really wanted to believe that.

Cloud carefully dismounted the man he straddled. The servant was alive and semi-awake. Both his arms and legs could still move. The teen sighed and stepped away from him, giving him room. Cloud's own body suffered from various injuries. They ranged from mild to severe. He'd need stitches. Cloud felt dizzy and was ready to pass out. But he forced himself to stay awake, at least long enough to settle matters once and for all. He noticed something shining on the ground nearby and approached it.

Cloud grabbed the knife there and wandered over to Greybeard's body. Standing over him, he dangled the blade between two fingers while the elderly man looked up. Greybeard froze in place. The tip of the blade hung directly above his left eye only a few feet away. He was afraid Cloud would drop it.

"Keep your sights away from the kiddies," Cloud told him, "or I'll stab those eyes out myself, gramps."

Trickles of piss collected between the old man's legs. Cloud said nothing else. He turned and tossed the knife over the construction site's metal fence. Then he carefully took one of Greybeard's arms and dragged him to the back seat of his car. The other two men gradually made their way to the vehicle as well. It was clear to them the fight was done. They were all in need of medical attention. Cloud closed the door after he secured Greybeard inside. He soon directed his attentions at the source of everything.

"You all right?" Cloud asked the silver-haired child on the car's roof.

Leaning slightly to one side, the schoolboy looked down at him. His pink lips wrapped around the hard candy again and a finger trailed along the stem of the lollipop. Cloud halfway expected the child to say something. He hadn't said a word throughout the whole ordeal, only watched. The boy maintained his silence as he hopped down from the roof. His movements were as brief and effortless as a cat's. Returning to the bus stop, the child sat on the bench and cordially crossed his legs.

Cloud nearly rolled his eyes. A simple 'thank you' would have been nice. He spat out a wad of blood from his busted lip. Before he followed him, he retrieved the boy's umbrella from the ground. Its handle was bent due to his administrations. There were also a few drops of blood on the black laced fabric.

"Sorry about your, um, umbrella," Cloud apologized and offered the broken item back to its owner. The boy ignored it. Cloud exhaled loudly in annoyance and took a seat beside him. Later, he demanded, "What are you doing out here by yourself at this hour? A kid your age should be at home. There are a bunch of weirdoes in the city."

As if to prove his point, Cloud looked back at three prime examples. The trio of men finally made it inside the car, ready to leave. The driver started it up and pulled away. They disappeared at a corner.

Cloud gripped his seat with both hands. An unsteadied feeling came to him, especially now that the adrenaline in his blood had washed away. Cloud struggled to keep upright. In a slightly slurred voice, he asked, "Do you need a ride home? My friend is about to pick me up. We can take you home."

The boy did not respond as usual. Sucking on his green lollipop, he stared at some undefined space down the road. Cloud wondered if the boy was mute. Or maybe he viewed him as a weirdo as well. It would explain why he refused to talk. Pretty soon Jessie would arrive though. Cloud hoped this child had enough sense to join them. It was too dangerous to stay out here alone.

"What's your name?" Cloud asked while flexing his damaged fingers.

At this, the child turned. Green eyes met blue. Cloud became rigid from the abrupt moment of familiarity. He could've sworn he had this encounter before.

Beside him, the child tasted his lollipop like he always did. His pink tongue lashed out and licked at the center of the sweet treat in small, slow circles. By now the thickness of the hard candy had turned thin and transparent from his constant licking. The child traced its round outer edges with his tongue, drawing out a long string of saliva. Cloud's throat felt dry all of sudden. He found himself needing to look away. The child's intense stare locked him into place though. He maintained eye contact with Cloud as he swallowed the entire lollipop in one gulp. Then he latched onto the hardy candy with his teeth. With a quick jerk, the boy pulled it straight off from the plastic stick.

It was the crackling sound of a motorcycle's engine that finally broke Cloud out of his trance. He licked his lips. Then he turned to the direction of the road. A lone bike rider approached. The sound of his metal beast roared loudly while his headlights grew brighter. He drew closer to the bus stop. The child surprisingly glanced at the rider as well. His teeth audibly crushed the hard candy inside his mouth.

Wearing a black helmet over his face, Cloud instantly recognized his clothes. Fatigue-colored jacket with cargo pants. Belts and chains. Thick boots. It was the young, raven-haired Host from the club. Pulling to a stop in front of their bench, he shut off the engine and pushed down the brake. A part of Cloud wondered if his other associates were with him. He even clung to the hope that Black was nearby. Unfortunately, Cloud saw only this young male.

Sitting on his bike, the Host removed his helmet and set it on his lap. Light from the street-post reflected back a youthful but very tired face. Bright blue eyes glowed as they did before while his spiked hair swayed against the cool winds. At this close range Cloud had a better look at his facial scar: it had been a clean cut. The brunette-haired teen surveyed the area for a moment. He noticed the blood splatters across the sidewalk and Cloud's condition. He made a face. His blue eyes looked at their direction.

"You done screwing around?" he suddenly asked.

The Host sounded both annoyed and amused. Slightly confused by his words, Cloud didn't know how to answer his question. He stayed quiet and sucked on his bottom lip to make it stop bleeding. The Host eventually looked directly at him. A frown appeared on his face. The Host shook his head with a sigh.

"Leave him alone already…" he murmured.

"Excuse me?" Cloud bit back. He scoffed and quickly defended himself. "I haven't done anything."

The other teen gave him a toothy grin. He laughed. "I wasn't talking to you, sunshine."

Cloud cocked a brow. He hadn't been talking to him all this time? Then it dawned on him. He turned to the silver-haired boy.

Flicking his lollipop stick to a nearby dispenser, the child now rose off the bench and approached the bike. The Host scooted forward in his seat to offer him space. They knew each other, Cloud realized and wondered _how_. The child didn't seem related to the raven-haired teen. He was also too young to be a Host. About the only thread they shared was the peculiar glow in their eyes.

"It took me a while to find you," the Host said and kept his eyes on the child. "Man, Angeal is gonna be _sooo_ pissed when he finds out where you ran off to and what you've been doing all this time. You'll never hear the end of his speech. Honor. Dreams. The works."

The child ignored the wild teen's gentle ramblings. He was a few steps away from the bike when he abruptly stopped and looked down. There was something on the ground. Cloud followed the schoolboy's gaze and realized it was his Chocobo Chow work shirt. He'd nearly forgotten about it.

Having dropped it before the fight, it was thoroughly soaked from the rain. The child picked it up with both hands and closely inspected it. He tilted his head to one side and studied the goofy Chocobo Chow patch with the name _Strife_ stenciled on it. A snicker escaped the child's lips. Cloud nearly rolled his eyes when he soon heard a giggle. Obviously, the child found his name or occupation or both very funny.

"Okay, give it here," Cloud ordered. He stood next to the boy to retrieve his shirt.

Either the child didn't hear his request or didn't care to oblige since he made no move to give it back to him. His small fingers carefully touched the fine textures of the sewn patch. He traced each letter of his last name with a pinky. Trying his patience, Cloud opened his mouth, prepared to demand for his work shirt again. His eyes widened in shock when the terrible child suddenly ripped the patch right off.

"H-hey!" Cloud started. "What the hell? Give that back, you little brat!"

The silver-haired boy swiftly shoved the Chocobo Chow patch inside his jacket's breast pocket: it was _his_ now. When the little bugger finally returned the shirt back he made no apologies. Irritated, Cloud snatched back his blouse. He had no idea why the child did that. Perhaps he wanted a memento for tonight's affairs. Or he liked Chocobo Chow. Or maybe it was payback for what he'd done to his umbrella. Whatever the reason was, Cloud had one less work shirt to use. Damn.

At the curb, the black-haired Host helped the boy mount his motorcycle. He turned to Cloud and grinned. "Sorry, sunshine. Finders keepers, losers weepers."

Not amused, Cloud muttered a curse word. The sour moment came to pass as he observed the two get ready to leave. The child wrapped his arms around his companion's waist. Their unique eyes shimmered. Cloud was tempted to ask why they glowed like that but the bike rider quickly put on his helmet and snapped the dark visor shut. The Host gave him one last look. It was a long one.

"Don't take this the wrong way, okay?" his soft voice carried, "But… I _really_ hope we don't meet again."

A bit put off by that rather offending remark, Cloud said nothing back. He noticed the Host grow rigid when the child behind him rested his head on his spine. Tiny hands gripped his waist even tighter. The bike's engine started up shortly after. Within seconds, the two strange boys rode off.

Cloud observed their silhouettes disappear within the dark landscape of the city. The bike's roar echoed loudly in the distance. He thought about Black in that single moment and instantly regretted not asking about him when he had the chance. Somehow, though, Cloud felt his presence. The child had something to do with it. Any time he looked into those bright green eyes, thoughts of Black were not far away. Cloud wondered if the two knew each other.

The blond-haired teenager stood in the middle of the sidewalk as he contemplated over their connection. Another dizzy spell hit him though. Feeling lightheaded, Cloud couldn't stay on his feet for long. He had exhausted all of his strength and willpower. Fatigue, chemicals, alcohol, and the aftermath of the fight all caught up with him now. Making his way back to the bus bench, the teenager decided to sit down and wait for Jessie there. He didn't get far. Both legs collapsed from under him and a numbing sensation took over the back of his head. This time Cloud couldn't get up. The body felt too heavy. His blue eyes rolled back. The darkness instantly welcomed him. On the cold sidewalk, Cloud blacked out.


	10. Hangover

**Author's Note:** _Cloud comes to. Some interesting tidbits of information along with a nice cameo from a certain potty-mouthed pilot. _

* * *

CHAPTER 9: Hangover

Somewhere in a short distance, an electronic beat played while a man spoke. He rambled on about conspiracy theories, colossal-sized creatures, starry-eyed men, zombies, and aliens from outer space. It had all the synopsis of a low-budget horror film. Still, the man sounded serious. In his low-pitched even tone, he spoke his words slowly and with great care. It was the _truth_ he claimed to speak; it was the truth that had been buried under years of deceit and corruption. It now demanded exposure.

"…_According to my sources, a highly esteemed scientist from Shinra's Science Department had led the excavation team and returned with a specimen that fell from the sky thousands of years ago. Official records declare this scientist had passed away due to 'heart failure'."_

A snicker was soon heard, followed by a lively amused voice.

"_Fu, fu! I suppose several gunshots to the chest by undercover operatives could be considered a 'heart failure'. But I digress, faithful listeners. I have no doubt his death was the result of a massive cover-up led by this ruthless corporation. Despite President Shinra's insistence that no such creature had ever been recovered, my sources indicate otherwise. In fact, this specimen has been at the center of many controversial projects from past to present. In time, we will dig out the truth. There are just some secrets that cannot stay buried for long._

_"Until that day comes, I am urging you, my brothers and sisters, to flood the streets and shake the foundation of Shinra Electric Power Company with your voices. And pray for our Planet. Blessed be the precious vessel whose blood runs dry on account of the sins of mortal men. This is AVALANCHE, the faithful and many, signing off._"

A cheesy soundtrack composed of metal pipes and strings played loudly and out-of-pitch. As this music played, one weary ice-blue eye halfway opened.

Cloud produced a low, throaty moan. Lying on his stomach, a bent arm sprawled over his head at a ridiculous angle while his left cheek had sunken deep against a soft pillow. He rested on a ragged couch that squeaked loudly when he tried to move.

The first thing that hit Cloud as he became semi-aware was a pounding headache followed by a strong thirst. He took a dry swallow and shifted to his backside. Bones cracked and tiny stings of pain flared along the path of his spine. He hissed.

"_H-hey, careful, Cloud…_"

Through half-slit eyes, Cloud slowly tilted his head to the direction of the female's voice. It came from around the corner of the couch. He rolled to his side and found a familiar face. With an easy smile, Jessie stood next to Cloud with arms wrapped around her waist.

Jessie's thick brown hair was pulled back into pony tail as usual, but a red bandanna now kept the bangs secured. She wore heavy-duty boots with faded leathery skin and a dark navy overall uniform. It was zipped to her neck while the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. A utility belt hung loosely around her slender waist. Each time she moved her tools jingled. Cloud wrinkled his nose. He could smell the scent of oil on her. There were smudges of black grease over her face and uniform.

"H-how do you f-feel?" Jessie asked.

Cloud took a deep swallow. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper. "I feel like crap."

"I bet." Jessie softly chuckled. "Y-you, uh, drank a lot last night."

"Remind me never to do that again…" Cloud massaged his temples.

"Definitely noted."

Cloud started to relax after coming to his full senses. Soon observing his current surroundings, he realized this wasn't his place. There were rolls of blueprints, metal tools, and mechanical objects piled on wooden tables and shelves everywhere. A computer station occupied a corner. It was the source of the cheesy music that continued to play in the background.

"Where am I…?" Cloud slowly asked.

"M-my place," Jessie answered back and fidgeted nonstop with her utility belt. "Sorry, but you never told me where you lived. You passed out so I had to take you here."

The walls of the living space were painted a soft pink color and littered with posters of adorable Chocobos. One poster displayed a giant Chocobo trying to fly. The words, 'Never Give Up, Silly Bird,' appeared under it. Cloud inwardly scoffed at the cheesiness of it. Then he checked the small group of broken television screens and radios. They were likely Jessie's personal pet projects. Cloud's brow rose when there was a large engine part among the stash. He moved a bit from the couch to get a better look of it until something squeaked in a high-pitch sound. Cloud looked down. A few Moogle plushies had apparently accompanied him on the couch. One squeaked again when he accidentally shifted his arm.

"S-Sorry about that, Cloud. I forgot those were there." Jessie nervously chuckled and quickly gathered the plushies. She dumped them into a nearby make-shift closet. To herself, she whispered, "_I'm such a stupid corndog. Stupid, stupid, stupid…_"

Cloud overheard her and tried not to laugh at her choice of words. His eyes later took in the rest of the apartment. It was a strange place, he thought. It had all the struggle of two personalities at odds with each other: one cute and one serious. Glimpses of femininity clashed with the rust of metal parts.

"N-need some water?" Jessie's voice reached him again; small and unsure.

Cloud nodded. The pipes in Jessie's kitchen rattled when she turned on a nearby faucet with a glass in hand. Carefully, Cloud sat up on the couch and waited for his drink.

His body ached everywhere. Face. Arms. Back. When he pressed a finger against his lower lip the tender skin immediately stung. It had been treated with an ointment. Cloud could taste the honey-dew flavor of applied medicine while he felt a thick layer of crust on his bottom lip. Stings of pain shot up his spine again when he shifted his weight on the couch. He discovered packed bandages over his back wounds. His bicep was currently wrapped by a cloth too. Lifting the cotton sheet, Cloud decided to assess the rest of his body's condition. He quickly frowned. Looking down, Cloud realized he'd been stripped to his boxers. He shot Jessie a look.

"I-I'm sorry," Jessie started when she came back with his glass of water. Her face turned to a shade of red. It almost matched the bandanna she wore. After a long awkward silence, she made a weird motion with her free hand and explained, "Y-you were wet from the rain and bleeding everywhere. I-I had to remove your clothes and f-fix you up."

The hand that still held the glass of water trembled. Drops of water spilled onto the wooden chipped floor. Sitting up with his entire chest exposed and one knee raised, Cloud stared at Jessie in silence. He took no offense and mentally accepted her reasons. However, the mischievous boy in him enjoyed watching the poor girl squirm for a moment longer. Jessie looked ready to explode. It was hilarious. Cloud nodded back to her though. He formed a small smile at the corner on his lips to reassure her everything was fine.

It wasn't right to be a prick to her like that. Cloud already knew she had a serious crush on him. He also knew from personal experience what it felt like when a crush shitted all over those sensitive feelings or, worse, didn't notice them.

Tifa…

Jessie visibly swallowed hard and finally handed him his glass of water with a shaky hand. Afterward, she idly touched a tool in her utility belt. It didn't take long for Cloud to finish his glass. His mouth was so dry the water was gone in a matter of seconds. Jessie took that as her cue to refill it. She retrieved the glass and poured more water.

"Wh-what happened to you, by the way?" Jessie inquired from the sink area. "By the time I arrived, you were busted up and lying on the sidewalk. Did you get into a fight?"

She handed him his next glass of water. Cloud gulped down most of it in one shot. Then he contemplated over her question. Cloud sat there, stumped. He didn't remember.

Only fragments came to him here and there. There was Wedge talking about big tits. There was the black shirt Jessie gave him. A giant birthday cake. A dance with Ele'. Cloud couldn't recall the details or order of events. What troubled him most, though, was how he ended up in his current poor condition. Just like Jessie, he naturally concluded he'd gotten into a bad ruffle. The circumstances behind it remained a mystery. Amongst his drug-and-alcohol influenced memories, however, came a brief image of a figure in black. It towered over him. Frowning, Cloud wondered if this shrouded figure had something to do with what had happened last night.

"I don't remember…" Cloud finally admitted and looked at Jessie. "Hey, did I… meet anyone in black?"

"Huh?"

"Was a person in black sitting at our table last night?" Cloud specified his question.

Jessie thought a moment. Then she shook her head. "It was just the five of us at the booth. You. Me. Wedge. Biggs. And Ele'. No one else was there with us. At least, that's what I remember. I admit, I was kinda drunk too so…" Jessie's voice trailed off. Later, her eyes softened. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Cloud didn't immediately answer back. The figure in black still occupied his mind. Black veil. Hidden eyes. After a long agonizing moment, Cloud finally gave up. He sighed. "Never mind. I'm good."

Jessie looked at him.

"What time is it?" Cloud decided to change the subject. "It feels late."

"It's two in the afternoon. I'm here on my lunch break. I-I came back here to check on you." When she noticed the surprised look on Cloud's face, she explained, "S-sorry I didn't wake you earlier. You were sleeping so peacefully."

Cloud shrugged his shoulders. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm off work today and my class is hours from now anyway, so it doesn't matter." He glanced at the bandages scattered across his body. "Um, thanks, by the way. Thanks for letting me crash at your place and tending to my cuts. I owe you. Sorry you have to see me like… _this_."

"Don't apologize. I'm just glad you're okay. It's just kinda crazy you blacked out." Jessie paused. Her cheeks flared with color again when she notified, "Oh, um… y-your _clothes_ are o-over there."

She pointed at a lining that was strung across her large kitchen window. Unlike his place, her window offered a good view of the Slums. If such a thing could exist. From where he sat, Cloud could see an old children's playground in the distance. When he checked the lining he found all of his absent clothes. They had been hand washed and hung to dry, including his Chocobo Chow shirt. Cloud noticed his name badge missing but couldn't remember how that happened.

Setting his glass on a nearby coffee table, Cloud found his PHS there. He wondered if he had recorded any events from last night. Quickly browsing through it, Cloud found only text messages between him and Kyle. A brow rose at the mention of a _black-veiled man_. But there was no mention of an encounter with him. Perhaps he only thought about a black-veiled man because Kyle had talked about him. Yeah. That had to be it. The black figure must've been a figment of his imagination based on Kyle's words, Cloud concluded, and set his PHS back on the table. He removed the blanket and got to his feet.

"Last night must've been an _eventful_ night for you," Cloud commented, a bit amused by his lack of clothes. He readjusted the waistband of his slim-fitting blue boxers.

Across him, Jessie's eyes widened at the sight of the almost-naked man. She instantly turned around to face a wall. Her cheeks blossomed red again. "I-I kept my e-eyes closed most of the t-time. I swear."

"_Most_ of the time?" Cloud repeated with a low-sounding snicker.

There was a long stretch of silence from Jessie. She finally took a deep swallow. In a serious voice, she asked, "Th-that long scar across your stomach… What happened there?"

"An accident when I was a kid…" Cloud briefly said, refusing to go into the details. His bare feet padded across the room and reached the lining at the kitchen area. He grabbed his pants. As he slipped them on, he confessed, "You know, I really don't like being in debt to anyone, Jessie."

"D-debt?" Still staring at a wall, the car mechanic frowned at first. It took her a second to understand what he meant. Then Jessie fervently shook her head. "No, no. It's not a debt, Cloud. Y-you don't owe me for a-anything. I was happy to help."

"But. You did a lot for me…" Cloud zipped up his pants and turned to look at her. Cocking his head to the side, he further elaborated, "What I meant to say was… if you wanna watch a movie or go out and eat somewhere, I can do that. With you. You know? A, uh, _get-together_?"

A _date_, Cloud meant to say but stopped himself before going any further. Crap. He sounded terrible. Flirty talk wasn't his forte. He still lacked the ability to casually ask someone out without feeling like a complete dork. Still, he had to give it a shot for Jessie. No matter what the woman said, Cloud felt obligated to her. Since he already knew what she wanted, it was within his reach to give it to her. Cloud quickly licked his chapped lips. He suddenly felt unsure and wondered if it was a mistake to ask her out.

"Y-yeah," Jessie quickly piped up. A subtle but high-pitched melody slipped into her voice now. She grinned. "_Yeah_, Cloud. I-I would like that very much."

Cloud sealed the deal with a simple nod back. Then he grabbed the black t-shirt from the lining and pulled it over his shoulders. He grunted when the wound on his arm briefly flared with heat. Cloud took a deep breath. "I'm kinda hungry right now. We could go out for lunch?"

Now that he was semi-dressed, Jessie felt comfortable enough to step away from the wall and face him. "T-tempting. I'd love to, Cloud. But. Um…"

"Oh. Crap. That's right," Cloud suddenly realized, "your job."

Jessie responded with a light-hearted chuckle.

"Did you at least eat?" Cloud felt a pang of guilt develop in the pit of his stomach. He hoped she didn't sacrifice her lunch time for him.

"I ate something while you were resting, so I'm good. Speaking of which… I-I should probably get going." Jessie pulled at her ponytail with both hands to tighten it. Then she went to her computer station and turned off the annoying music that hadn't stopped playing. "Sorry. I hope this webcast didn't annoy you. It can be _out there_, but I do like tuning in. Some of the stuff is interesting."

On the monitor's screen, Cloud saw an image of a young man with slick brown hair and thin-framed glasses. It was the voice he heard as he woke up.

Fuhito, the webmaster of AVALANCHE, was in his twenties. This was the same environmental hippie Biggs was into. A lot of people like Biggs and Jessie were taken by AVALANCHE's movement.

A _revolution_, everyone called it. Every day Fuhito broadcasted news related to Shinra in an attempt to expose their secrets to the public. Twice, his channel had been taken down, supposedly by the Turks. But Fuhito was a relentless man and had retaliated with a full DNS attack against Shinra's commercial-related servers. Or so Biggs claimed. Cloud didn't really believe the hype. Aside from his first name, he was a relatively unknown person. For all anyone knew, Fuhito was a college kid dropout who smoked grass all day and lived at the basement of his parents' home while trolling Shinra's public channels.

"Yea, I heard him talking about UFOs or something," Cloud mentioned, not really interested in the topic. "Hey. Where's your workshop, Jessie?"

"At Wall Market. Why?"

"Maybe I can walk you there?"

"Oh, like a bodyguard?" Jessie beamed.

"I don't know about _that_." Cloud snorted out loud. "But it wouldn't hurt to make sure you get there in one piece, especially when they discovered that corpse yesterday at the museum."

"Yeah, that was kinda spooky," Jessie agreed, "Fuhito mentioned it earlier in his webcast. He claims a Tsviet was dispatched at the scene. A monster apparently appeared shortly after the corpse was found."

Cloud cocked a brow, unsure whether to believe this story or not. Fuhito was often full of shit. However, Biggs did mention hearing gunshots and seeing Turks at the checkpoints during his delivery run. There was also a rumor of a Tsviet appearance. This nerved but excited Cloud.

Monster sightings were still an issue in the city. Midgar's Wasteland continuously attracted them. President Shinra insisted they were the results of Wutai rebel attacks. They claimed the rebels planted them in the city. It would explain how the creatures reached topside. Still, it was strange one appeared at the same scene of a corpse. Cloud wondered if the two cases were connected.

Cloud set his thoughts aside and grabbed his PHS on the counter. He decided now was the perfect time to leave. "Let's go. I don't want you to be late. I can grab a bite to eat too."

"Sounds like a plan." Jessie nodded and walked around her apartment to ensure everything was secured and turned off. The two left her nest soon afterward.

* * *

Wall Market: a steam-fueled, rusted cesspool that exploited dreams and inward desires. Man could become king. For the right price. The environment was a kaleidoscope of improvised structures made of recycled materials. Metals. Tin. Plastic. Still, the underground 'town' burst with raw energy and ambitions. Perhaps one of the few areas in the Slums with actual running power, venues in Wall Market ran on either battery-juiced generators or coal. Lanterns and bulbs alike kept the area brightly lit. All vendors depended on the generators and coal supplied by Don Corneo who, in turn, took a large percentage. Heavily guarded and gated, the Don's residence occupied the north section.

For many, Wall Market was as close to paradise as anyone could get here. Customers had to keep their wits about them when navigating through its mean streets though. Thugs, thieves, prostitutes, and dealers readily stalked the grounds for potential targets. It was an endless cycle of misery and self-loathe. Many of the working women who spread their legs for Gil were actually desperate mothers or daughters that needed to feed their families. And most of the thugs that plagued the streets originated from broken, disarray homes. Wall Market belonged to the lost and forgotten bastards of Midgar City.

As Cloud traveled alongside Jessie, the bottom of his shoes crushed glass. He checked the ground. There was an assortment of trash, from food to broken wares. Bones of rats and pets rested among the pile. Flies and maggots gathered on the corpses. Cloud exhaled slowly. It was hard enough to stomach a few ghastly sights, but Wall Market's air always felt heavy. Thick antique pipes from various rooftops continuously spat out puffs of smoke. The smog created from generators and fires had settled thickly in the air due to the Plate above. It had nowhere else to go. Cloud was lucky he didn't have asthma.

Watching out for dog shit, the blond-haired teen followed Jessie down a busy section of Wall Market. He bumped into a few people on account of the traffic. It was a popular area. There was a boutique, an Inn for guests, and few other item shops. Young faces stood outside these stores to attract customers while performers played on beat-up improvised instruments for Gil. A familiar scent of Wutai noodles suddenly caught Cloud's attention. It came from the local diner he visited during his trips to Wall Market. It wasn't too far from the Pharmacy he also frequented for his motion sickness pills. Cloud decided to return to the diner for a bite to eat after he dropped Jessie off.

"We're halfway there," Jessie notified. "Thanks for coming with me. This place can be rowdy."

"Yea, it's always an _adventure_ coming here," Cloud responded in a snarky manner.

Walking past a bar now, two drunk idiots abruptly crashed through a window and spilled onto the streets. Cloud and Jessie jumped back in reaction. The intoxicated men sloppily tossed fists at each other, reeking of alcohol. When one of them kneeled over and vomited during the scuffle, the sad display reminded Cloud of his own fight.

Granted, most of last night remained a blur. The liquor and drugs had seen to that. Nonetheless, Cloud suspected the horrible mischief he had committed based on his wounds and muddled thoughts. Perhaps it was best his fragmented memories stay hidden away.

_…You smell of unrelenting lust, boy._

A Shinra officer soon arrived at the scene and broke up the fight. He waved his baton and issued the drunks a warning. Cloud wasn't surprised to spot an IM here. It was common to see them among the Slums population. Either they kept the peace and broke up riots… or simply had a good time.

Liquor, sex, and all other the vices were readily available to everyone in Wall Market, no matter rank or status. Shinra employees were no exception. They visited the regular hot spots like everyone else did. However, the high officials were often spotted at the infamous Honey Bee Inn.

Whatever happened at Honey Bee Inn, stayed in Honey Bee Inn. Or so Cloud recalled as he observed the popular hotspot from his current position. A long line of men already stood in front of a tall gate guarded by two bulky males. The special Inn was only two stories high but hosted an impressive group of beautiful women. They donned adorable, yellow-and-black striped outfits that resembled worker bees.

According to Wedge and Biggs, there were four notable rooms worth a visit: the Group Room, the Lover's Room, and the Queen's Room. The last room had no name and was supposedly reserved for the clinically insane. Access into Honey Bee Inn required a membership card that cost good Gil. On occasion, the owner of the establishment offered special one-day passes. Cloud's cheeks turned to a brighter shade of pink. In his coat's pocket was a membership card. He faintly remembered Wedge giving it to him as a birthday present. If he ever had the balls to redeem it, it would be his first time going through those special doors.

"Hey, isn't that the place your Boss likes to hang out?" Jessie suddenly asked.

Cloud looked away from Honey Bee Inn and turned to the direction Jessie currently faced. His skin lost color and he almost had a heart attack on the spot.

"Biggs told me about Mr. Mukki," Jessie revealed as they stared at a gym, "He likes to work out a lot."

Cloud was too appalled to issue a confirmation. _That gym_…

It was indeed the very gym Mr. Mukki religiously visited. Sheltered within a large tent, a large neon sign shined brightly over its entrance. Cloud had never gone inside the gym. He imagined the air reeked of feet and ass drip. No doubt the floor was glossed with sweat and spit. Cloud had heard a rumor the gym was reserved for a _special kind of man_. What that meant, Cloud did not know. Nor did he _want_ to know. A sense of anxiety overtook the blond-haired teenager as they walked past the notorious establishment. He halfway expected Mr. Mukki to suddenly pop out from the gym's entrance like a Boogeyman and attack him with a bear hug.

"Hey, there's my shop," Jessie announced and pointed straight ahead.

_Praise Gaia_, Cloud thought. He hurried after her and didn't look back.

Together, they arrived at a two-storied, make-shift establishment composed of metal panels and pipes. A blue neon-lit sign, _Hot Rod's Shop_, flickered on and off again.

Behind the workplace was a junkyard cluttered with smashed cars and bikes alike. They stacked on top of each other several feet high. It was a miracle these _pillars_ of metal didn't collapse. At an opened garage space, a few beat-up cars had been mechanically lifted for inspection while others were in the process of being gutted for parts. A flight of steps at the east end led up to the second floor. Neighbors with the Machine Gun Store, the popping sounds of bullets could be heard in conjunction with the non-stop rattle of a mechanical tool. Jessie headed for the entrance of Hot Rod's Shop. Wanting to properly send her off, Cloud followed suit.

A single bell chimed on their arrival. Hip-hop melodies played loudly from an antique jukebox by the entrance. The air smelled of rubber, oil, and cigarette smoke. A large, squeaky ceiling fan spun above them. To Cloud, Hot Rod's Shop was impressive in size. It looked the part of a legitimate mechanics shop. The wall next to him consisted of a series of corded boards that displayed cables, wrenches, coiled wires, and other important tools. Four metaled shelves with wheels were placed in a line, each containing cans and bottles. A six-foot tall and five-feet-wide red cabinet sat at a corner. As the two arrivals stepped further into the workshop, they passed by a collection of tires of various sizes.

Jessie waved to a twenty-something unshaven male inside a metal cage that reached up to the ceiling. The man gave Jessie a half-mocked salute when he saw her, then returned his attention to the cigar-smoking customer in front of him.

Looking intimidating, the caged man had unkempt auburn hair and a collection of tattoos stenciled on his well-toned, ripped arms. He wore gray overalls like Jessie but kept the topped pulled down and revealed a black, sleeveless shirt. Several necklaces decorated his neck while a cigarette was tucked above one ear. A wooden counter ran along the same length of his cage. From his enclosed space, he hung in suspension by a swing. Its chains led up to an opening in the ceiling. A visible lever was next to him, the triggering device required to ascend to the second floor.

Cloud and Jessie left the man in the cage alone and made their way to a small break room nearby. Made of chain-linked walls, the break room provided a mini-fridge and a water dispenser. A cheap plastic square table was propped to a side, littered with cigarette butts, consumed soda cans, and magazines. A newspaper sat at the top of the stack. It showcased the corpse sighting at the museum.

Clocking in with a paper slip in the break room, Jessie turned to Cloud and revealed, "That guy out there is my boss: Alvis. But everyone in Wall Market calls him _Rod_."

"_Rod?_" Cloud gave out a loud snort. "Something tells me he thinks pretty high of himself."

Jessie poured water into a paper cup. "Heh. Well. People call him that because he likes to hit people who give him funny business with metal pipes." She suddenly leaned close to Cloud and whispered, "Between you and me, I think my Boss is an ex-Turk…"

Cloud became quiet and didn't crack another joke at Rod's expense. Wearily, he checked the cage again.

He saw Rod still talking to the customer. Surrounding Jessie's boss were giant posters of bikini-clad women. However, there was a line of metal pipes on a rack next to Rod. Cloud wondered if they were tools or really props used to beat bad customers to a bloody pulp. He swallowed hard at that last possibility. Rod really was a scary looking guy. Then again, nearly everyone who was afraid of their boss claimed he or she must've been an ex-Turk. It was a common running joke in Midgar.

Jessie left the break room shortly after. Cloud followed. He decided to mention his departure to Jessie until he noticed a motorcycle a few feet away. It was near a work bench across him. A glint in Cloud's eyes appeared. He took several steps closer to the bike.

It must've been an old model since it lacked all the fancy additions of a typical G-bike. No GPS. No digital transmitter. No automatic break locks. Its rusted handle bars were wide spread while the busted headlights consisted of large round shapes. The paint-job had been reduced to chipped flakes of dull browns. Cloud ran a hand across its torn leather seat. Despite its terrible condition, he adored it. Since he was a kid he wanted to ride a bike. He loved the sound of its engine and the complex beauty of its mechanical body.

"You like that?" Jessie approached him from behind. She took another gulp of her water. "Rod brought that in for me to restore. There's a lot I gotta fix though, like the spark plug and cooling fan. The combustion chamber is also in pretty bad shape. You ride bikes?"

Cloud slowly removed his hand from the handle. He shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, I don't."

"Unfortunately?" Jessie repeated. "You don't have a bike license?"

"Nope. No license at all."

"Not even for a car?" The female mechanic blinked. "But you're already seventeen…"

"My motion sickness…" Cloud explained and leaned against a work bench with arms crossed. "I can't ride a car, let alone, a bike."

Jessie silently sipped her water. Afterward, she asked, "Have you talked with the doctors?"

"I've been taking motion sickness pills. That's all I can do. I also can't afford an instructor or Driver's Ed class." Cloud set his eyes to the floor. "I guess I'm doomed to keep my feet planted to the ground."

"I wouldn't give up just yet, Cloud." Jessie took a step forward. She crushed the paper cup and tossed it in a bin. Proudly, she declared, "I know how to ride a bike. I can teach you! No sweat."

Cloud stared at her.

"You won't have to pay a thing since I'll provide the bike too," the woman continued, "We'll get you your Bike License in no time. You can worry about a Car License later."

Speechless, Cloud's eyes switched back and forth between the bike and Jessie. He couldn't determine whether it was the real deal or a false hope. His pessimistic nature wouldn't allow him to accept this wonderful offer without question. Already, Cloud debated what the trade-off was. By accepting this offer he would feel even more obligated to her. He hardly knew Jessie and didn't want to plant any funny ideas in her head if he agreed to it.

"Well? What do you say, Cloud?" Jessie asked; a genuine smile on her face. "You game?"

A pause. A thought. A frown. Finally, Cloud replied in a no-nonsense manner, "Are you serious?"

At first, Jessie responded with an unblinking look on her face. Then a small snicker escaped her mouth. "Wow. Biggs was right about you: you can be a funny man sometimes."

Cloud's brows shifted evenly, not sure how to take that.

"Listen," Jessie began, "I'm very serious about teaching you. I'm offering my services. Free of charge. You just gotta tell me if you're interested or not. I won't force you into this if you don't want to."

Cloud studied Jessie's face. Her tone was gentle and her eyes never wavered from his. The woman was dead serious about teaching him how to ride a bike. And she had the means to make good on that promise. Cloud's eyes directed back to the bike next to them. His hand touched its handle again. This broken bike… it was a work-in-progress. Just like him. A faint smile formed across his lips.

Cloud turned to Jessie. "When can we start?"

She instantly grinned. "We'll figure out each other's work schedules and go from there."

Cloud bobbed his head in agreement and stood closer to the bike. This was great. Not only would he finally learn how to ride one of these metal beasts, but he'd also learn to cope with his motion sickness. The pills weren't enough. If he couldn't operate a vehicle or tolerate one without puking he'd be no good to the Public Safety Division, let alone, the Tsviets.

"_Goddamn, that's too expensive, ya freakin' asshat!_" a voice suddenly exploded behind the two. "_Whatcha take me fo'? The Princess of Wutai?_"

Both Cloud and Jessie shifted their attentions to the blond-haired customer with the cigar. He wore an assortment of vintage accessories on his person, including a pair of bronze metaled goggles above his head and long leather gloves. His jacket was grimed with oil and grease. The conversation between Rod and him had escalated into a screaming-swearing match of sorts. Neither man blinked or backed off.

"That engine, alone, is worth twelve," Rod notified through gritted teeth, "I got three other customers lined up, ready to throw down thirteen. Pony up or fuck off, Spaceman."

"Yea, the engine is worth twelve. But with the five-fingered discount you're always gettin' fo' yo' parts? I reckon that twelve ain't coverin' any expenses, except for the ones ya rack up at the Honey Bee Inn."

"Don't like my business? Go somewhere else, Spaceman. That is, of course, if you can find another dealer with a Class B Model 387 Engine for that damn flying tin-can you call a plane."

The other man took a deep inhale from his cigar. He blew a puff of smoke at Rod's direction. "I'll make a deal: ya give me that engine fo' four grand an' I'll run a free shipment fo' ya. Ya won't have to worry 'bout all that red-tape at the loadin' docks or the inspectors peepin' in yo' crates. Deal?"

Inside his cage, Rod scratched his stubby jawline beard.

"That'll include the fuel too, you greedy-ass dipshit," the customer continued.

Rod suddenly beamed. "Sounds like a deal, Spaceman. I'll have the engine ready in an hour."

Both men spit into their palms. Through a square gap in the cage their hands interlocked and shook. Then the blond-haired man held out his wrist's barcode. Rod scanned it with his handheld scanner.

"_Four thousand Gil has been withdrawn_," a computerized female notified.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Spaceman," Rod said with a satisfied smile on his face.

The blond-haired customer grumbled a few incoherent words. He headed straight for the exit. As the bell chimed from his departure, Jessie looked to her boss. She approached the cage with Cloud.

"Who was that?" the young woman asked.

"Cid Highwind, a top-class pilot for Shinra. He's actually slated to fly into space next year. Mr. Spaceman needs the Class B engine. Be sure to spruce it up before he comes back, girl." Sitting in his swing, Rod turned and noticed Cloud. "Who the fuck is this pretty boy? Your boyfriend?"

Cloud frowned.

"Uh, n-no. He's just a f-friend." Jessie grew red-faced. "This is Cloud."

"_Cloud?_" Rod took one long look at him. "Hm. Figured a twink like you would have a name like _Cloud._"

"It certainly beats being a dick named _Rod_," the boy retorted in kind.

Silent, Rod removed the cigarette from his ear and lit it with a mini-blowtorch he grabbed from his counter. To Jessie, he simply said, "I like this kid already."

Jessie blushed. "Um, I was showing Cloud around the shop. He lives in the Slums too and works at Chocobo Chow up at the Plate."

Cloud made a face. He wished she didn't mention his occupation, especially to this hard-ass man. A sense of pride prompted him to clarify, "It's only for a while. I plan on enlisting this spring."

"To the army?" Rod took an inhale of his cigarette. "That sounds intense. Lotta boys sign up for the meat grinder. Judging by that look in your eyes, though, you're not just shooting for _any_ grunt position. You want the Tsviets. Am I correct about this?"

"Yea. So what if I am?"

"No need to be defensive, kid. A lot of people want to join their ranks. The Tsviets got the power of mako in their blood. They're the fucking juggernauts of this world, possessing all the genetic imprints of a new God. Not many can surpass the Tsviets. Well. Except maybe for the Old Blood."

"Old blood?" Cloud repeated.

Rod blew smoke from his mouth. The music on his jukebox temporarily stopped to switch to another record. A wave of silence dominated the room, interrupted only by the _ta-ta-ta_ bullet sounds from the Machine Gun Shop next door. At the switch of a record, the music changed from hip-hop to the blues. Rod tipped the ashes off from his cigarette and gave one more serious look at Cloud.

"That's another story from another time," Rod finally said. He stared without unblinking. "You got the determination, kid. I can see that in you. But I'd be careful. The stories I hear about Shinra and their _pet projects_… It's the type of shit that'll spook anyone."

Cloud crossed his arms. "And how would you know anything about Shinra?"

"That's another story from another time," Rod repeated and showcased all white teeth in his grin. His hand reached for a lever and the chains in his swing started to pull him up. As the head mechanic ascended to the square hole in the ceiling, his voice carried to Cloud. "Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare."

Rod laughed. His sound echoed loudly until he disappeared through the ceiling. The words stayed with Cloud. He started to wonder if Jessie's suspicions about her boss were right all along. Meanwhile, the female mechanic took a step closer to Cloud. She offered an apologetic look on her face.

"Ignore him," she suggested, "Rod can be an ass sometimes."

"So I've noticed," Cloud agreed. He took his eyes away from the ceiling and glanced at the door he initially came through. "I'm gonna head out now if you don't mind, Jessie. I don't want to distract you from your work."

"You're not a distraction," Jessie replied very softly. "Thanks for escorting me here, by the way."

"No problem." Cloud suddenly felt awkward. He took a few steps toward the door but paused midway. Looking back at Jessie, he muttered, "I'll, um, stay in touch. For the bike lessons. And the… _other_ thing."

"I look forward to our date, Cloud."

Jessie's face blossomed with a warmer color. The mechanic had blushed a lot throughout their time together. It was clear she was excited about their date. For Cloud, though, he didn't know how to react. A handshake? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? Cloud recalled the 'no kissing on the first date' rule and settled for an awkward smile instead. He was terrible at intimate affairs like this. He maintained his smile long enough to look away. Then he quickly left Hot Rod's Shop in search of food.


	11. Adventures Down Under

**Author's Note:** _ Beware of the hanky panky here. Cloud is learning how to 'let loose' here while trying to recover from his wild night of party. _

* * *

CHAPTER 10: Adventures Down Under

_Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare._ Rod's last words still played in Cloud's mind as he waited for his Slack Season Wutai noodles and mindlessly tapped his fingers on the wooden counter. Above his head was a small black-and-white television with bunny-eared antennas. He had chosen a far corner spot at the restaurant's u-shaped counter, away from people. Cloud wasn't in the mood to make small random talk with anyone. Instead, he drank his glass of water in solitude and ignored the chaos around him.

The Diner had a good crowd thanks to the lunchtime rush hour. It was a popular place. Sadly, the owners of it couldn't think of an original name. Thus, the restaurant had simply been dubbed _the Diner_. Stupid? Yeah. To the point? Very much.

A thick haze had settled throughout the area. Large metal pots continuously steamed on rusted stoves. The Diner had all the style of a vintage restaurant with a few booths, a long wooden counter, and bricked walls. Black-and-white photographs lined against a wall, each showcasing the people and places connected to the establishment. At the far right corner of the place was a pool table and pinball machine. Unlike the restaurants on the Plate, there were no fancy digital interfaces or robots to tend to the Diner. It was all manual work committed by human hands. A rectangular shaped menu above the counter flickered on and off again and displayed the main entrees. Menus with more options were given out on cheap laminated paper.

Cloud's stomach grumbled from the smells of various dishes. With an impressive selection to choose from, the Diner served the best tasty and genuine food around. It was thanks to the surge of immigrants. Like Cloud, they all dreamt of making it big in Midgar City, only to fail and settle underground instead. They luckily brought with them the unique flavors of their native lands.

Glancing up at the television screen, Cloud watched the news coverage related to the Tsviets. The world was obsessed with them. Despite numerous requests, the super soldiers rarely conducted interviews and did not venture in public domain. Weiss the Immaculate often spoke on the group's behalf but kept his comments brief and sparse. Many tabloids that were on the hunt for juicy information claimed Weiss was in love. It must've been a special type of lady to attract the attention of a powerful Tsviet, Cloud thought. He sipped his water.

On the television screen was a blurred image of Weiss boarding a helicopter taken from a civilian's PHS. The teen halfway expected to hear about the alleged Tsviet sighting in the museum last night but nothing was mentioned. Neither was the shooting that supposedly happened. Before Cloud could contemplate over that, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

_"Hey, Beautiful_," came a male's voice, "_Wanna have some fun? I'll make it worth your wild for ten Gil."_

Taken by surprise, Cloud almost choked on his water. He set his glass down. His stool squeaked when he turned to confront a man with low-rising jeans and a sleeveless, white fishnet hoodie. His lips shined with glittery lipstick. Cloud's eyes narrowed. "Fuck. Kyle. Is that gonna be your new pick-up line?"

"Maybe. It got you to turn, didn't it?" Kyle lowered his hoodie and took a seat next to him. When the waiter arrived he demanded a bowl of Mie Ayam with taro-flavored bubble tea. Afterward, he grabbed a napkin from a dispenser to spit out his gum. "I'm surprised to see you here, Cloud. You off today?"

"Yea. But don't get any ideas. I've got my evening class after this."

"Aw. You're no fun. I can't believe you're still obsessing over the army. Or the Tsviets, for that matter. I heard they're all mentally unstable freaks, no doubt from the mako they always shoot up."

"I don't care what you think. It's my ticket to a better life." Cloud glanced at the television box again. He saw Weiss's confident face fill the screen. Then he looked at all the disheveled people in the diner and sighed. "I'm tired of living in this shithole, Kyle, working at a stupid job I hate while trying to make it. I wasn't born for this. I was born _to fight_, to become something more."

"You know…" Kyle slowly began and leaned forward, "you're always introspective when you're moody, Cloud. You say some mind-trippy things when you're in the zone. Ha, I fucking love it."

"I'm happy to amuse you…" Cloud replied dead-panned.

Kyle rested a cheek on his palm and looked up at him. "How was your birthday party, love?"

"I can't say much about it. I got plastered last night."

One of Kyle's finely shaped brows rose. "Oh?"

"I blacked out."

At this, Kyle sat upright. He didn't blink. "Whoa. Wait a minute… _You blacked-out?_"

"Yeah…" Cloud replied indifferently. He took out a block of ice from his glass and sucked on it.

Kyle erupted in laughter. He laughed so much his face flushed brightly. "Holy shit, that's awesome!"

"Not really…" Wincing now, Cloud readjusted himself in his seat when his back stung against it. "I apparently got into a fight last night too. Over what, I don't remember. Everything is scrambled in my head. I had to crash at one of my friend's place. In fact, I just dropped her off before coming here."

"_Heeeeeeer?_" Kyle's wide-opened eyes stayed on Cloud. "Did you get laid too?"

"Not with her, idiot."

"Then with someone else?"

Cloud sucked on his ice cube again and thought a moment. It was hard to recall whether he had sex or not when half of his memory was infected by lucid dreams, wild thoughts, and blank spots. Reality intertwined with fantasy. Cloud was pretty sure he stayed at the booth most of the time, rarely interacting with the women at the club. Obviously, he didn't sleep with Jessie. And he didn't sleep with Ele' either since he would've been at her place this morning. It was a sure bet, then, he didn't have sex last night. That was a damn pity. He had wanted to unwind and celebrate his birthday with a big bang. Even so, a part of Cloud felt something had happened. Something else had transpired…

_Are you just going to stand there gawking, boy?_

"No," Cloud finally addressed Kyle again, unsure of that answer himself.

"No?" Next to him, Kyle frowned. "Well. That certainly sucks."

Cloud crushed the cube with his teeth. He rested his elbows on the counter and sat very hunched-like. "Whatever. I'm better off without sex. I need to stay focused. Sex is overrated anyway."

"Huh. Really?" Kyle slid a hand on Cloud's thigh. He gently squeezed it. "You sure about that?"

Cloud shot Kyle an annoyed look. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" the other boy innocently asked and rubbed his thigh.

"_That._ We're in public."

"So?" Kyle snickered and looked around. Everyone ate and talked; oblivious to them. He turned to Cloud. "See? Nobody knows what we're doing at our happy little corner. Public sex is fun anyway. Ever try it? It's like speed racing down a road without getting pulled over. Quite the adrenaline rush."

"You're weird." Cloud stared at the hand on his leg, grateful everything happened under the counter. "Can't you think of anything else besides sex?"

"Hey, _you're_ the one thinking crazy here."

"_Me?_" Cloud sounded offended. "I'm not the one feeling up another guy right now, am I?"

Kyle took a long look at Cloud. His eyes followed the length of him, from his face to his body. "Despite what you might think, you've got the physical demands of any seventeen-year-old boy, Cloud. I know you beat off at home as much as I do. But, damn, when it comes to hooking up with someone? Well, you got all the ambition of a cranky lady on the rag, I'm afraid."

Cloud's initial reaction was to punch Kyle and tell him to fuck off. But he snorted instead, trying to suppress a laugh. Admittedly, he did find the analogy pretty funny. His reluctance to indulge in reckless sexual conquests like many boys did probably made him the most conservative person in Midgar. The two teens shared a chuckle and relaxed.

"All I'm saying is your youth ain't gonna last forever," Kyle explained later. "Pretty soon that pretty face of yours will have all the wrinkles and warts of an old man. If you're lucky, you'll have an old lady still alive and willing to blow you. Otherwise, you'll have to _pay_ for someone to do it. You'll start to regret all those younger days you hadn't let loose, back when the world still wanted to fuck you."

Cloud stared at his glass. The final blocks of ice continued to melt away as time ticked on. Quietly, he said, "I think you're overthinking things."

"Am I?" Kyle' paused long enough to position his hand over the front of Cloud's trousers. Even when the other teen appeared alarmed by this, he massaged the warm, soft budge there. Kyle leaned closer and spoke directly into Cloud's ear. "I know how it all plays out, you know. It used to gross me out when an old man crawled in bed with me, paying me to fuck him. But then I realized he is a walking and withering corpse. No one wants to fuck a rotting body. These old geezers are alone in the world in this sense. Their families have moved on and are simply waiting for them to die to collect the assets. Do you know what a walking dead man often thinks about before he dies? Getting laid."

Kyle's voice was serious and hushed, even as his hand moved in a slow rhythm below. He worked the budding muscle between the legs. Electric nerves shot up and Cloud softly exhaled.

"It kinda gives you a new perspective on life, you know," Kyle continued. "It makes you more thankful for what you got. I'd rather die living in the moment than live cautiously with regrets over the things I _could've_ done. Hell, I might end up like those guys who hang themselves for angel lust."

Cloud took a deep swallow. Some part of him hated Kyle. The other half understood every word he said and couldn't deny how _good_ this felt. He must've been sexually deprived for longer than he thought since his body reacted so willingly to Kyle's touches. The hot blood that flowed in his veins pumped faster. The air became heavier. It didn't help that Cloud's waking want was trapped within his trousers. This amplified any and all sensations he encountered. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. He tried to breathe.

"See? This isn't so bad," Kyle murmured to him; his wicked hand still hidden under the counter. "…Is it?"

"You're a terrible man…" Cloud barely replied back, breathing heavily.

"Yeah. I can be a naughty boy," Kyle admitted. His pink painted nails slowly grazed the curved bulk along Cloud's thigh.

Cloud tried to keep a straight face, especially when the waiter briefly looked at their direction. He held his breath and stayed still. Those horrible, wonderful fingers didn't relent under the counter though. They worked their magic and followed along his length until they reached the tip. Exploring its blossomed shape, Cloud understood, without a doubt, why Kyle was the best man-whore on the streets. He had the gifted hands of an artist. It was likely the same for his mouth.

When the waiter turned away from him, Cloud blew out the air he had kept in. The top of his forehead felt damp. Staring at his lap now, he watched Kyle's fingers continue to grip him. The sight of the crude act stirred him. His erection twitched. Cloud licked his lips when the hand paused on his lap and drifted to the zipper of his pants.

"You can be naughty with me," Kyle whispered to Cloud as he undid the front of his trousers; the button and zipper. He carefully pulled out a hot mass of stiff flesh. "Let's be naughty together…"

Granted, the thought of experiencing this with Kyle or, for that matter, _another boy_ at a public restaurant created a cluster of mixed feelings in Cloud. There were a few elders and children present. There was also the waiter who stared at them suspiciously from time to time. Receiving a hand job in public domain was _wrong_. He knew that. And yet, as Kyle pointed out, it was an adrenaline rush. From being with another guy to doing this at a restaurant in daylight, it held all the danger and excitement he secretly craved for in his mediocre life. It was bizarre. Horrific. And thrilling. For whatever reason, Cloud's mind conjured up a terrifying figure in black.

_Do you feel this? Do you feel _me?

It was around this time, the doors opened and a group of men in suits entered the Diner. Both Cloud and Kyle paused from their juvenile theatrics. They noted the abrupt silence that filtered into the restaurant. Only the jukebox kept playing. At the pool table, someone missed their shot.

The smell of expensive cologne and high-brand cigarette drifted from the five sharply-dressed men at the Diner's entrance. The one who led the group was a forty-something male with wavy, short brown hair. He maintained a well-kept beard along his jawline. A few wrinkles decorated his face. Black-glossed shoes clacked against the wooden flooring as he stepped forward.

Flanking his side was a younger male. With slender-shaped eyes and perfectly arched brows, the man sported Wutaian features. A diamond-shaped tilak was planted center of his forehead. The man's style was simple and conservative. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. He kept close to the older male.

For the third man, he was young with short-cut, furious-red, spiked hair. A pair of slick black goggles held his stray bangs away from his face. Contrary to his companions, his posture was relaxed. He leaned on one leg while twirling a metal rod between two fingers. He accidentally smacked the side of a dark, bald-headed man directly beside him. Readjusting his sunglasses with gloved hands, the dark muscular man with a trimmed goatee gave off a grunt-like sound. He sneered at his red-haired companion.

Cloud caught sight of the last man in their group. Of them all, the teenager was intrigued with him the most. This man harbored a dark foreboding presence. His raven-black hair was cut into a short stylish and layered bob. A few strands covered half his face while the rest jutted out. His youthful profile suggested someone in their mid-twenties but his crimson eyes revealed an older man. Cloud noticed the arm sling on his left arm. An injury? The man remained silent as his party claimed seats at the counter.

"Mmm, Valentine…" Kyle practically purred and resumed stroking Cloud. "This is definitely a treat. Usually these guys hang out at the bar during their off hours. But from time to time they come here."

Cloud was just as surprised as Kyle was to see five members of the Turks at the Diner. They usually kept to themselves, away from the public eye. An organization of many secrets, citizens from the Plate and Slums alike feared them. And for good reason. With only a flip of their PHS they could make anyone in the planet disappear without a trace.

Cloud quietly grunted when Kyle's hand administrations intensified due to the skin-to-skin contact. He could feel the moist softness of his palm. With great labor, he asked, "…D-do you know them?"

"I know _about_ them." Kyle looked at the oldest man in the group while his hand pumped Cloud's shaft under the counter. "They visit the Don a lot. See that guy there? The oldest one? He goes by the name _Veld_. He's the head of the Department of Administrative Research. You don't want to fuck with him."

"You mean he's the leader of the Turks?"

"Yep. That's him. Veld answers directly to the President." A pause. "…How's that feel?"

"A little harder…"

"…There?"

"Mm. Yeah… Yeah, just like that…"

"You have a nice size. It feels good in my hand." Kyle looked back at the Turks across the Diner. Calmly, he revealed, "The rest of those boys are Veld's handpicked people. He rolls with this group a lot."

Cloud struggled to focus on the scene ahead. He could faintly hear the soft _fap_-like sounds his warm prick made with each hard tug. A few drops of clear pre-cum juice erupted from a tiny slit. It dripped over Kyle's hand as he aggressively played with his cock. Cloud hissed when sticky fingers gripped him tighter. Thankfully, no one noticed the two teens fooling around at their corner spot. The jukebox music and nonstop diner chatter continued while everyone in the Diner focused on the Turks.

Licking his lips, Cloud paid attention to Veld again. Already seated, the high-ranked Turk removed a small stainless steel case from his coat's pocket. His fingers retrieved a cigarette from it. Next to him, the Wutai man already had a lighter out for him. He lit the nicotine stick.

"The one with the tilak on his forehead is Veld's right-hand man, _Tseng_," the street rat disclosed. "He's from Wutai. Man of many talents. He's a cold fish, I hear."

Tseng flipped the top of the lighter closed and slipped it into his jacket in two quick, smooth moves. He sat in silence. Any time his superior spoke he intently listened. Cloud had never seen anyone as frigid as this guy. Even in a relaxed environment like this, he was as responsive as a robot.

"The big-mouth there is Reno," Kyle notified when the red-haired Turk abruptly laughed from a joke. The Turk strayed from the group and took a spot at the pinball machine with the dark-skinned man. Kyle teased the slit of Cloud's flushed head with a finger and added, "Don't let his appearance fool you. He is as wild as he is unpredictable. One word from his boss and he'll split your head in half with a smile."

"And the other guy with him?" Cloud swallowed hard. "…F-fuck, you're good."

Kyle squeezed his stem. Then he turned to the bald-headed fellow Cloud addressed and answered, "He's Rude. He never takes off those damn, silly sunglasses. Not even at night. Rude and Reno are inseparable, like peanut butter and jelly."

Cloud breathed faster. His toes curled inside his shoes when Kyle's hand sped up again. Both sacs swelled and grew firm; bloated with hot seed. A dizzy, lightheaded sensation hit him. Cloud gripped the edge of the counter to keep his balance. With half-closed eyes, he watched the two Turks at the pinball machine while Kyle stroked him off faster.

Reno rapidly tapped the buttons of this game and hollered when he scored. Rude stood there like a wall. At the back of Cloud's mind, he wondered if this was the same Turk Biggs saw yesterday. There had been a Turk with sunglasses at a checkpoint shortly after the museum shooting. If Fuhito's claims were correct then there was a good chance these five Turks had seen the alleged 'monster'.

"And that one?" Cloud breathlessly asked, feeling his abdominal muscles contract. He kept his eyes on the man with a sling on his left arm. This Turk sat with Tseng and Veld but did not interact with any of them. "What's his story?"

"Vincent Valentine," Kyle informed with an adoring smile. "From what I hear, he was reinstated for active duty after being out of commissioned for a long time. I don't know all the details myself. But word on the vine is that he's close to the black-veiled man. He keeps close to him."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud said slowly. A memory suddenly tugged in his head. As he struggled to dig it out of his fuzzy mind, he thrust his hips slightly forward to meet Kyle's hand strokes.

"I wonder if Valentine is his boyfriend?" Kyle wondered aloud. He briefly brought up his hand to spit on the palm. Then he resumed choking the life out of Cloud's cock. "That would be hot."

"Black-veiled man…" Cloud repeated, halfway lost in an impending climax.

"I'm kinda frustrated I missed the black-veiled man last night…" Kyle confessed. "I heard he was at a club. And I also heard this morning he has chosen his next client. Damn. I never got to see him."

Focused on his climax and a dim memory from last night, Cloud blocked out half of what Kyle said. He closed his eyes. _Black-veiled man_, he thought to himself again and again. Black-veiled man. Black-veil. Black. Black. _Black_… Cloud's brows furrowed. The memory was there. He could feel it throbbing at the back of his head, ready to burst out. But for the life of him, he couldn't get it out of him. In his mind he saw nothing but meshed black cloth and a shimmer of green hidden behind. He heard the sounds of a boy's giggle, followed by a deep and alluring voice. They called to him in unison. Cloud held his breath.

_Run along, silly boy. This one's fire burns too brightly for you. You'll likely be scorched alive under his touch…_

Next to him, Kyle noticed the desperate, hungry look on Cloud's face. The teen's body abruptly went tensed. Kyle drew closer to him and discretely placed both hands on him underneath the counter. He mentioned a few encouraging, profane words to Cloud. Then his hands pumped the rigid muscle faster and rougher until the swollen cock wobbled and squirted a long, thick string of white goop. It shot straight under the wooden counter. Two more lines of cum roughly hit the same area. Cloud bit deep into his bottom bruised lip. His body shuddered but he forced himself to stay in his seat.

"_Fuck_…" Cloud whispered, panting. When he opened his eyes halfway, his vision was unfocused.

"Admit it," Kyle said to him and gently massaged Cloud's spent tip with a palm, "it was a rush."

Trying to catch his breath, Cloud agreed with a half-hearted scoff. He couldn't deny it. It was the best damn climax he had experienced in a long time. And with a _guy_, no less. He flopped to one side and his head fell on Kyle's shoulders. Like a bolt that was no longer screwed on too tightly, Cloud felt looser now. He idly watched his cum drip down from the spots he hit. A faint memory of a black figure still circled inside his head but he was too spent and hungry to bother with it. Perhaps later, once his stomach was settled and his climax properly wore off, he could return to that strange thought.

Their waiter soon arrived with both meals. Kyle noticed the suspicious expression on the server's face and offered him an innocent smile. Then he took a few napkins from the dispenser after the waiter left and wiped off the semen between his fingers. Cloud did the same. He carefully cleaned his tip and the mess he made under the counter. Although he was still semi-hard, he managed to zip himself up.

"Maybe after this you can treat me to dessert," Kyle suggested with a clever smile on his face.

Cloud knew Kyle wasn't talking about sweet treats. He snickered at him. Then he grabbed his chopsticks and dived into his noodles.

Side-by-side, the two boys ate. It'd been too long since he had a good meal that Cloud immediately ordered a second bowl after the first was quickly consumed. Once in a while, Kyle struck up a random conversation. Most of it revolved around his clients. The good. The bad. And the downright ugly. Cloud listened for the most part but kept his eyes on the Turk called Valentine.

By now, the men in suits received their food and ate at the counter on the other side. Cloud noticed that Valentine never looked up from his bowl. Even while his group chatted amongst themselves, he and Tseng kept quiet. Cloud couldn't help but note the peculiar shine in the Turk's red eyes. In a way, they reminded Cloud of other strange eyes he came across. The memory of it though was a blur. Cloud continued to study Vincent Valentine from where he sat until Reno, a few seats away from Valentine, looked up and noticed him. The red-haired Turk made eye contact with Cloud. Then he stood from his seat and walked toward his direction. The dark-skinned Turk followed suit.

Immediately, Cloud glanced down at his bowl and regretted staring at Valentine. It was never a good idea to look at a Turk. People got shot that way. He overheard Reno whistle along with the jukebox's tune as he approached. One hand was dipped in his coat's pocket while the other twirled a metal rod. His step was in perfect synch with the song.

Cloud held his breath when Kyle suddenly stopped eating. He muttered a curse word, clearly alerted by the new arrivals too. A second later, Reno stopped next to them. Rude was only a few feet away. The red-haired Turk leaned his hip against the counter and looked down at the teens. He directed his attention to the one with wild, choppy blond hair.

"Yo, you work at Chocobo Chow. Right?" the Turk asked out-of-the-blue.

At first, Cloud refused to look up from his bowl. He still wanted to believe the Turk came for someone else. Silence followed, though, and a looming sense of being watched forced him to look up. Sure enough, eyes the color of green-blue stared at him. Cloud forced his mouth to work. "I work there…"

"Down at Twenty-First Street?"

Cloud felt his blood go cold. There were over thirty Chocobo Chow restaurants littered across Midgar City. This Turk somehow knew which one he worked at. Wearily, the boy confirmed, "Yea…"

The Turk grinned. The red linear tattoos stenciled on his cheeks stretched wide. "Thought I recognized ya. Yo, you work with Elena."

That last remark was more of a fact than a question. At first, Cloud cocked his head to one side; puzzled. It took him a moment to realize who he was talking about: Ele'. She rarely went by _Elena_. Cloud slowly nodded his head and disclosed, "I work with her, yes. But she goes by _Ele'_."

For some reason, that made the Turk laugh out loud. He playfully whacked his rod on his partner's arm. The bald-headed Turk beside him grinned. Something about Reno's cocky voice and stature annoyed Cloud. He was tempted to roll his eyes. Only a few seconds of conversation and he already didn't like this guy. Next to him, Kyle shared a similar frown. He slowly drank his bubble tea. Reno finally stopped laughing. He addressed Cloud again with the same goofy grin on his face.

"Do me a favor, Chocobo," Reno demanded, "Send the word: I wanna talk to Elena. It's important."

Cloud stared at him.

"It's premium, top-class shit, yo. Send the word. Feel me? Can you do that, Chocobo?"

Cloud's half-slit eyes stayed on the Turk. He absolutely _hated_ that name. He was not a Chocobo.

"There a problem?" Reno paused. After no response, he glanced at his partner. "Yo, Rude. Y' think if I feed this kid a few Carob nuts and a Zeio he'll talk? Maybe breed me one of those crazy-ass, rare Gold Chocobos too?"

The two Turks snickered together. Cloud clenched his hands into tight fists on the counter. He was one step away from getting to his feet and punching this creep. It didn't matter if he was a Turk.

"So ya gonna talk to Elena for me or what, Chocobo?" Reno pressed again and crossed his arms.

"My name is _Cloud,_" the boy corrected through gritted teeth, "And if you want to talk to _Ele'_ then tell her yourself, Ginger."

Kyle nearly choked in his soup and looked up at Cloud. A waitress in the middle of passing someone their dish stopped in her tracks. A few diners shared similar ghostly, wide-eyed expressions. They all stared at Cloud as if he were a dead man. On the jukebox a song about a bad moon rising played.

Reno stood still. Cloud's bold choice of words and snarky attitude was not lost on him or his partner. Cloud could already sense the other Turks look his way. From across the counter, the one named Valentine finally raised his head up from his bowl of noodles. There was an unreadable look on his face.

_Way to go, asshole_, Cloud told himself. He knew he should've stayed home on his birthday. If he hadn't gone to the club he wouldn't have gotten dead drunk. If he hadn't gotten drunk he wouldn't have ended up at Jessie's place. If he hadn't ended up at Jessie's place he wouldn't have entered Wall Market with her. If he hadn't entered Wall Market he wouldn't have dined at the Diner. And if he hadn't dined at the Diner he wouldn't be here with a gang of Turks sizing him up. _Fuck. His. Life_.

"H-heh, you have to excuse him," Kyle suddenly spoke and addressed Reno. He cleared his throat. "My friend here, uh, had a very crazy birthday party last night. He got plastered. He fucking _blacked out_. Can you believe that? It was _that_ kinda wild party." He chuckled. Then he placed a hand over one of Cloud's clenched fists and added, "Unfortunately, he is still working off the alcohol in his system. Please. Pay him no mind." Kyle dug two cards out from a pocket. It was a one-year membership to Honey Bee Inn. "For you and a friend, Reno. Give the receptionist my name. They'll treat you to the best ladies there."

Reno stared at Don Corneo's hired boy. He slowly accepted the two cards. The tone in his voice sounded less upbeat when he inquired, "A friend of yours, eh, Nunchaku? Legit, yo?"

The street rat pulled Cloud to him in a tight and inescapable hug. To everyone else, it was a bonding gesture. But to Cloud, it was Kyle's way of keeping him put. Kyle didn't want him to do anything stupid. Like pounce and strangle the Turk with his bare hands.

Kyle offered the Turk a sweet smile. "Cloud is the best."

Reno looked back and forth between Kyle and Cloud. The corners of his mouth eventually curved into an easy smile. He brusquely nodded his head. "Cool. No foul then. I hope your boy learns to hold his drink better next time. And to hold his tongue. I would hate for it to go missin'. Y' feel me, right?"

"I understand. I'll gag him with one of my toys next time."

Reno laughed at the crude joke. He pushed away from the counter and took a step back, preparing to return to his party. As he shoved the cards in his pocket, he told Kyle, "I'm hopin' you wise up some day, Nunchaku. Leave that blob you call a boss. Roll with us. We could use someone like you in our crew."

"What? And miss out on all the hot bunnies? Puh-lease. The Don treats me right."

"The Don's an idiot," Reno stated as matter-of-fact. He returned his attention to Cloud. "And as for _you_…" He pointed his index finger at him and held up his thumb, as if it were a trigger. "_…Bam._"

Reno chuckled at the playful, yet warning gesture. Cloud did not budge in his seat. If Kyle hadn't held him down he'd smash the Turk's teeth right in at this very moment. Reno and Rude gave him one more glance over. Cloud refused to waver or look away. With a glint in his eyes, Reno stuck his tongue out and showed a spiked metal piercing. Then he snapped his fingers to Rude only once and, like that, both left.

"Nicely done, man," Kyle mumbled sarcastically and exhaled slowly. "Nearly getting yourself killed by a Turk in daylight requires a special kind of talent. I couldn't have done it better myself." Loudly, Kyle slurped up his bubble tea.

Cloud stabbed a piece of meat with his chopstick. "He was being an asshole."

"Yeah, and so?" Kyle dismissed. "Sure, Reno can be an asshole. But I also warned you he's a _dangerous_ asshole; the type of hot-head you don't want to fuck with. Reputation is everything to Reno. If he sees anyone disrespecting him or his crew he'll make an example of him."

"Whatever," Cloud sneered back.

Kyle sat still for a second. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but are you being completely stupid or completely reckless when you say that? I can't tell."

"Pick one."

"Gods. You're a royal pain in the ass sometimes, Cloud…"

The two finished their meals in silence. While Cloud felt guilty for putting Kyle in an awkward and dangerous situation, he was too pissed to express an apology or gratitude for his intervention. Kyle thankfully didn't press on the matter. He gave him his space.

As they later paid for their respective meals, Cloud was glad the Turks hadn't finished their plates and would stay behind a little longer. The matter between them had already been settled. Nonetheless, he sensed someone watching him. Surprisingly, it wasn't Reno stalking him with a venom-like gaze this time. It was a silent Vincent Valentine. He'd been keeping a good eye on him since the confrontation. His crimson eyes trailed after him, even after Cloud and Kyle headed out of the Diner.

"Heading to class now?" Kyle asked as they walked down a path.

"Not yet. I'm gonna drop by my place to feed the dog, shower, and change."

"How_ exciting_," Kyle remarked in a neutral-toned voice. "Don't forget to scrub the toilet and take out the trash after you've properly filed your taxes. You're living the life, Cloud."

"Yeah, the life of a mob boss's henchman is _soooo_ much better, I bet," he snapped back.

"I prefer the term, _faithful subordinate_, thank-you-very-much." Kyle produced an exaggerated pout. "Anyway. Here, asshole. Maybe this will brighten up your day and help you to play nice with the kids next time." Kyle dug out a bag of grass from a pocket. He shoved it inside Cloud's coat. "Free of charge. Use it. I command it. I swear you take yourself too seriously sometimes."

"Says the man who butt-fucks every man in the block without a care in the world." Cloud glanced into his pocket and was pleasantly surprised by the amount given him. It would last him a week.

"Damn right I do," Kyle happily agreed and removed a ready-made joint from his person. As he lit it with a lighter, he said, "With you almost getting yourself killed back there, you could use a good butt-fuck."

"Whatever."

"Mm, there goes that dreadful _whatever_ again… Is that like your default answer for everything?" Kyle took a deep puff of his joint. He allowed the smoke to gather in his lungs before he blew out. "Seriously, man, you need to be more careful. You've been here long enough to know that certain lines can't be crossed. Especially with the Turks. I might not be there next time to help you."

"That's fine. I never asked for a babysitter. I can take care of myself."

"Maybe so. But I'll sleep better at night if you watch yourself and play it cool. The underworld is a very unforgiving place." Kyle gazed ahead and observed mountains of trash in the distance. "You can't pick apart the discarded dead bodies from the junk here. There's just too much of it."

Cloud shoved both hands into his coat's pockets and kept his eyes on the ground. He knew Kyle was right. If he pushed the wrong buttons and ended up dead, no one would distinguish his corpse from the countless piles of dirty baby diapers, needles, and trash bags. It was a terrible way to go.

Cloud looked at Kyle. "I get what you're saying. I do. I'll watch my temper next time. It's just…" He paused and gritted his teeth together. "I'm not going to be anyone's pushover. If I can't stand up for myself then what good am I to the Tsviets? Or anyone, for that matter?"

Kyle sucked in more smoke and didn't have a response. Soon, the two boys passed an items shop and cut through a dark alleyway. Rippled posters of LOVELESS hung along the makeshift walls that advertised show times. There were beer bottles and food wrappers scattered everywhere. Cloud looked out for glass and watched his step. When they reached deeper into the alleyway Kyle spoke again.

"You know… I never heard anyone call Reno a _Ginger_ before," he confessed. A smile emerged from Kyle's face. "That was actually funny."

"Trust me: I wasn't trying to break any records." The tension in the air seemed to lift with those words, especially when Kyle playfully jabbed him on the arm soon afterward. Cloud winced and rubbed his arm with a hand, still feeling sore from his wounds. Quietly, he said, "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For helping me at the Diner," Cloud clarified, "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did. I know you would've done the same for me."

"But I put you in an awkward position."

Kyle abruptly snorted and passed Cloud his joint in good spirits. "Damn, boy. You should know by now: _awkward positions are my favorite_. And speaking of which…"

There was a light in his eyes, a terrible light that Cloud recognized as mischievous. Bad things happened whenever Kyle gave him that _look_. Sure enough, Kyle stopped in the middle of the alleyway. He checked both ends of the narrow path. Cloud was about to ask him what was wrong until the other boy placed a hand on his chest. Kyle gently shoved him against a wall. Realization dawned on Cloud too late. He stood in silence as the boy placed his hands at the helm of his trousers. Fingers worked the button.

"What the hell…?" Cloud started. "W-what are you doing?"

"As I can recall," Kyle calmly explained, "I wanted dessert. Seeing as how I just saved your life and all..." He pulled down the zipper with one swift move. "…You owe me."

"Hold on… w-wait a minute."

"Don't be such a baby," Kyle teased and went on his knees. He took Cloud's warm member in his hands and stared at it. "You know, I've never had Nibelheim cream pie before. Does it taste sweet or mild?"

"You're gross…" Cloud pointed out but had trouble sustaining his voice.

"I'm all sorts of wrong, aren't I?" Kyle wrapped his hands around the tender muscle and pulled on it.

Cloud inhaled sharply. He nearly dropped the joint between his fingers. Pressing his back against the wall, tension built at the lower regions of his body with each stroke. His eager member stretched out and reached full potential again. Already, the engorged tip oozed with drops of pre-cum. The boy below placed a wet kiss on a very moist spot. Then another. And another. Kyle's tongue teased at the slick miniscule opening. Cloud sucked on his lower lip and idly noticed a torn LOVELESS poster across him. A Goddess-like figure stared back at him. Her cold green eyes, familiar to him somehow, bore into him.

"_She guides us to bliss,_" Cloud faintly whispered, "…_her gift everlasting_." He sighed when his entire length suddenly became engulfed by glossy heat.

As Kyle suckled him, the image of an impressive-sized cock projected in Cloud's head. It was long, thick, and pale pink. Circumcised. A notable vein budged along its side. Cloud absently licked his lips. He didn't know why this image came to him or why it awakened a deep, primal want. His fingers clung to the locks of golden hair below. While the head between his legs continuously bobbed in a smooth circular motion, Cloud pictured the pale perfect cock in his mind again. He imagined himself tracing its vein with his tongue. Other absurd actions followed; other things he wanted to do with it. The sucking sounds grew louder. Lost in this cycle of euphoria, Cloud closed his eyes and shoved himself into the wet crevice. His hips repeatedly thrust in and out.

He never noticed the pair of red eyes glowing from a distance.


	12. Chocobo, Chocobo

**Author's Note:** _Someone planted a funny mental image in my head. I had too much with it. (Thanks, Dodo! - yes, that is his/her username) It helps to play the Mortal Kombat theme song at a certain part of this chapter, fellow creepers. Just sayin'... XD_

* * *

CHAPTER 11: Chocobo, Chocobo

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
Where are you going, Chocobo?  
You flap your wings and aim for the sky  
Silly bird, don'tcha know you can't fly!_

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
Why are you running, Chocobo?  
To reach the fields of green with the blazing sun?  
Oh how your feathers shine gold as you run, run, run_

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
What are you doing, Chocobo?  
Pounce, stomp, you wark out loud  
Such a feisty beast with a great wicked sound_

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
Come here, lovely Chocobo  
Sit with me by my warm bright fire  
I'll wrap my arms around you and kiss you higher_

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
You're mine now, pretty Chocobo  
Hush, you squalling thing, hear what I say  
We'll stalk the fields together, somehow, someday_

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
Oh how I love you, sweet Chocobo  
Never leave me, never say goodbye  
Else I'll take you and make Chocobo cottage pie_

_Naughty, Chocobo, naughty  
Chocobo run, run, run  
To the fields of green with the blazing sun  
I'll catch you yet before this day is done!_

_Chocobo, Chocobo_… a popular children's song. The tune was on track three of Chocobo Chow's regular playlist. It came on every hour of the day. Cloud heard it now from the restaurant's outdoor speakers. He never liked that song. It drove him nuts. Having children sing about Chocobo cottage pie and hunting a poor animal because it ran for freedom sounded absurd. Yet, this passed as harmless _fun_. Cloud wondered what the hell was wrong with people sometimes. He quickly put this thought aside when a car drove past him and honked loudly. Growling, the teenager wanted to flip the driver a finger. He had bigger issues on his plate than a sadistic children's song right now.

Standing outside the restaurant in a yellow and fluffy Chocobo costume, Cloud Strife remembered why he hated his job. Sweat had accumulated between his toes while the mohair material of the suit made his skin itch. His sense of distance was off due to the very round shape of his costume. He couldn't get far without accidentally bumping into something or someone. The oversized feathery tail, alone, whacked whatever was behind him whenever he turned. What was equally annoying was the sheer weight of the Chocobo suit. Cloud continuously strained to lift his arms due to its heavy wings. Feeling a bit claustrophobic inside the head piece, his vision was limited to two tiny peep holes. Cloud's face was glossed with sweat. With every breath, his hot air collected inside the mask and created a damped, sticky space.

The teenager grew more and more irritated. For every car honk and funny stare he received on the street, Cloud thought of a new way to kill Mr. Mukki. Strangulation. Food poisoning. Kitchen knife stabbing. Decapitation by sword. Baseball bat bashing. A fucking potato cutter.

It was an early Thursday morning; the clouds still a murky gray color. A few rays of the sun managed to peak through from the west side.

Nearly a week had passed since the aftermath of Cloud's wild birthday bash. He still didn't remember much of it. Every now and then his coworkers poked fun at him. They reminded him of the time he supposedly slept on the sidewalk or claimed a shadow stalked him. Cloud paid no mind to any of it. His life had settled back to its regular scheduled program.

Every day Cloud woke up, commuted to work, looked out for creeps, attended evening class, sword trained, and dealt with the usual round of customers. He kicked back with his skateboard in the Slums' park whenever he wanted to relax; it was the only activity he could enjoy without triggering his motion sickness. His life returned to its rinse and repeat process but with some alterations.

On certain days, Cloud met with Jessie at Hot Rod's Shop. They went over the basics of bike riding. Getting used to the bike's delicate balance and its non-stop vibrations, he would sit shotgun while she rode. Progress had been slow but steady. When he didn't vomit, that was. Jessie also had him assist her in repairing the old, beat-up bike at Rod's shop. It was an exhilarating experience.

On other days, Cloud hung out with Nunchaku. They either smoked grass together or made out, feeling each other up. Being with a guy was still a strange experience for him though. They hadn't done anything too… _drastic_. But since his bizarre birthday party last week, Cloud felt bold enough to try out a few things. He admittedly enjoyed the perks of being with someone familiar with his hardware.

For Cloud Strife, day-to-day living had become tolerable and even enjoyable. Since he turned seventeen things had changed for the better. But then… _today happened_.

Today, Mr. Mukki got the stupid idea of doing a commercial for their Chocobo Chow restaurant at Twenty-First Street. Customer attendance was at a low for the past months due to stiff competition from another kid-friendly restaurant a few blocks away. The company executives wanted them to do something about it. And so, Mr. Mukki slapped Cloud in a Chocobo suit, assigned the rest of his bubbies as the amateur film crew, and got ready to read his lines. This morning they all assembled outside of Chocobo Chow before its opening hours to record their commercial.

"Bubby, don't forget to catch Mukki in a good light," the manager told the cameraman. Mr. Mukki checked his teeth on a hand mirror and picked at a particular spot with a toothpick.

Serving as today's cameraman was Biggs. He stood a few feet away and found a good shot of both Mr. Mukki and the restaurant. The image blurred in and out of focus. Next to him, Wedge struggled with the long rod of his microphone. He angled it above Mr. Mukki like a fishing hook, attempting to capture good sound. Ele' stood close by. A large portable stereo sat between her feet. Her hands were full with large white cards that contained Mr. Mukki's lines. Ignoring Biggs' nonstop chatter, she organized them.

Sweating in his costume, Cloud stood alone at his corner spot. It was thirty-degree weather outside but he stewed in his own steamy juices anyway. He wanted to tear off the head piece and take in the cool air. Cloud didn't understand why _he_ had been chosen to dress up as the Chocobo. Just because his hair was a chaotic, wild mess and people often compared it a Chocobo's ass it still didn't make things right. With a low growl, Cloud fidgeted in his bird suit. He wanted to get this stupid commercial over with.

According to the script, he needed to leap into the camera view and make _happy Chocobo sounds_ like an idiot while Mr. Mukki talked about their exciting deals. Cloud had yet to practice on the jumping. He already had trouble not tripping over his large floppy bird feet whenever he walked. Cloud didn't look forward to shooting this commercial, especially when random people on the streets stopped and stared at him. A tiny child on his way to school with his mother spotted the fluffy Chocobo mascot. He pointed and squealed. Beside him, his mother smiled and waved to Chocobo-Cloud. The teen sank deeper inside his costume with a flushed face.

"Okay, bubbies! Places!" Mr. Mukki clapped his hands. "Places! Let's get this show on the road. No time for dilly-dally-shilly-shally-milly-mally… Meh. You bubbies get the point. Make Mukki proud!"

On that note, Ele' turned on the stereo between her feet. Dramatic orchestral music with a children's choir wailed in the background; Mr. Mukki's soundtrack of choice for the commercial. He wanted something _epic_. Ele' held up the script cards while Wedge kept the microphone's rod steady, making sure it didn't appear in the camera shot. As Cloud scuffled to his position, careful not to trip, Biggs tried to steady his camera with both hands. He zoomed into Mr. Mukki's face. Chocobo Chow's manager cleared his throat and popped out his shirt's collar. As usual, Mr. Mukki's suit was two sizes too small. His heavy chest looked ready to burst out of his cheaply made jacket.

"Take one!" Ele' announced after everyone stood in their designated spots. "Action!"

"Welcome to your one and only Chocobo Chow restaurant at Twenty-First Street," Mr. Mukki read from the index cards. The choir music sounded majestic in the background. "Here in Chocobo Chow, we pride ourselves in providing you, our valued customers, amazing meals for a great price. But don't just take my word. Take it from our furry friend here!"

The camera zoomed out. In came a flying Chocobo-Cloud. He leapt forward into the camera shot with his wings spread wide. Fluttering them up and down like a madman, Chocobo-Cloud screamed at the top of his lungs, "_Wark! Wark! WAAAAAAARK!_"

"Why, hello, Chocobo!" Mr. Mukki greeted with an over-the-top laugh. "It looks like even _you_ are excited about our latest menu selections. You _flew_ right in to hear about them? And here I thought Chocobos couldn't fly! Ha. Ha. Ha."

Chocobo-Cloud flapped his wings again and jumped. "_Waaaark!_"

Mr. Mukki smiled, showing all white teeth. He quickly turned and addressed the camera. "Here at Twenty-First Street we got the Choco-Choco-Choo-Choo Chocobo and the classic Chowder Chewy Chocolate Chocobo Chopper. For only fifteen Gil, it's definitely a deal. Isn't that right, Chocobo?"

"_Waaaaark!_" Chocobo-Cloud concurred and repeatedly bobbed his fat, flimsy head.

"Chocobo Chow uses nothing but the best ingredients provided by our locally-owned Chocobo farms," Mr. Mukki notified, "All of our Chocobos live the good life until that day comes when they magically transform into that unique top quality meat we all love!"

Behind Mr. Mukki, Chocobo-Cloud bounced left to right. He flailed his wings and warked loudly. In Cloud's head he wanted to die. He thought about the song that played earlier and how the Chocobo fled to a field of green. It was certainly better than this living hell.

Meanwhile, the choir of children sang louder. The stereo's music had reached a crescendo. So far, the commercial went smoothly. Mr. Mukki read his lines without referring to himself in the third person or calling anyone _bubby_. The amateur film crew also did a great job at capturing everything. Reaching the end of their scene, the manager stepped forward and looked directly at the camera.

"For a full list of our menu selections and daily deals, be sure to visit our website. Subscribe to our mailing list today and enter a chance to win a Chocobo Chow t-shirt and plushie. You can also order your meals through our online application. If you're in a hurry, don't worry! Our restaurant in Twenty-First Street has a drive-thru! So come on down. Start the day bright; start the day right. Right, Chocobo?"

_"Wark! Waaaark! Waaaaaar-_AAAAAHHHH-GAWDDAMNIT!"

It was at this point, Chocobo-Cloud tripped during a bounce. The bird boy had awkwardly landed on his floppy feet and fell face-forward. On the ground, Cloud moaned inside his furry suit.

"Oh crap!" Wedge panicked first. The chubby teen was ready to drop the rod and check on Cloud. But he swung his microphone rod too quickly. It smacked Mr. Mukki right on the face.

"EEEEeeeeee!" The manager's immediate squeak sounded like a distressed girl. Temporarily blinded, Mr. Mukki staggered back and forth and repeatedly rubbed his eyes with both hands. "Mother of Gaia! Mukki can't see! _MUKKI CAN'T SEEEEEEEEE!_"

"Damn it…" Ele' muttered with a sigh. Dropping the cards, she decided to help before things got worse. In her haste, though, her feet accidentally tripped over the stereo. Ele' landed hard. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

The children's choir music played on as the Chocobo Chow crew tried to recover from this disaster. Behind the camera, Biggs snickered and kept recording. His shaky camera screen showed Ele' muttering a long line of incoherent curse words while the manager cried a few feet away. Wedge stood next to him, sprouting one apology after another. Meanwhile, the camera caught sight of Chocobo-Cloud. He rolled back and forth on the ground, attempting to get to his feet. The large round shape of his costume nearly made it impossible. He was no better than a baby trying to stand.

Nearby, a random passerby hysterically laughed. He had his PHS out. With tears in his eyes, the man recorded the entire event. More people gathered to watch for themselves.

Biggs quickly panned his camera back to Cloud when he managed to get up; disheveled feathers and all. The camera stayed on the fluffy bird boy. It followed him as he marched straight up to the laughing guy with the PHS. Cloud's words were muffled by his oversized mask and the lack of Wedge's microphone. He sounded pissed off though. The giant Chocobo flapped a wing at the young man. When the obnoxious guy didn't stop laughing and kept his PHS on Cloud, the bird boy snatched the cellphone and threw it on the ground. It shattered into several pieces. Biggs' eyes widened from behind his lens.

In a matter of seconds, a fight broke out. Man versus Chocobo.

It was a battle of epic proportions. The camera's view of the battle shook nonstop but Biggs shot everything. Feathers flew everywhere. Unflattering words were exchanged along with blows. Chocobo-Cloud remained unharmed, however. None of the other man's punches could connect due to the sturdy softness of his costume. The bird boy retaliated with a firm whack with his wing. Then another. _Whack-whack-whack!_ As the young guy stumbled backward, Chocobo-Cloud followed up the attack with a swing of his large feathery tail. It was enough to push the man down. With his enormous bird-like feet, Chocobo-Cloud stomped on the man.

The group of people gathered closer around them. They cheered and whistled. On the sidewalk, the child cried while the mother covered his eyes.

By the time Shinra infantrymen arrived to diffuse the situation, the male on the ground lay curled in a ball with his hands over his face. Aside from a bruised arm and ego, there weren't any permanent injuries. He was whisked to a hospital anyway as a precaution. It took the combined efforts of Ele', Wedge, Biggs, and Mukki to calm Cloud down, meanwhile. He was too annoyed and embarrassed to take off his mask. Chocobo-Cloud stood at his spot when the three Shinra IMs approached him.

This very bizarre altercation earned the unruly country boy an assault charge. Thankfully, the troops could not stop laughing. Nor could they find it in themselves to arrest the beloved Chocobo Chow mascot. They issued Cloud a court date and a two-hundred Gil fine for the incident. Case closed.

* * *

When the dust had finally settled an hour later, Chocobo Chow was opened for business. Cloud found himself in Mr. Mukki's office with all the boredom of a seventeen-year-old angst-ridden teenager. He sat alone. According to his wristwatch, it was close to ten. The stupid costume was gone and Cloud now wore the standard uniform he donned every day in this godforsaken place.

The first wave of customers had already been served. While the rest of his coworkers stayed at their assigned stations, Cloud quietly chewed on a stick of gum and waited for the inevitable _talk_ with Mr. Mukki in his office. No doubt the manager wanted to go over what had happened earlier this morning. It would likely lead to another write up; his third to date. For a moment, however, Cloud considered the possibility of getting fired. Perhaps he'd gone too far this time. The teenager quickly brushed the gloomy thought aside. He rocked up and down on his squeaky chair.

Cloud's eyes wearily took in his environment. The manager's office was a place of wonders, driven by ego and a flamboyant flare. A marble statue of Mr. Mukki's face sat on a pedestal. His masculine features conveyed an oh-so-serious expression that often made Cloud roll his eyes each time he saw it. The man obviously couldn't get enough of himself because, to Cloud's left, hung a six-by-six foot screen printing of the boss too. It was a series of Mr. Mukki's portraits in all colors of the rainbow.

Fucking ridiculous.

Checking the fuzzy carpet below his feet, Cloud noted the collage of butterflies there. They suspiciously looked like giant cocks with wings. There were enough of them in various patterns and colors to make any person under the influence trip out. Cloud's face twisted into a grimace when he briefly eyed the framed pictures along the walls: Mr. Mukki's _bubby club_. They were mostly middle aged men who shared the same goofy-shape of the boss's moustache. The men also wore similar tight-fitting muscle shirts, their pectoral and arm hairs peeking out. Cloud looked away but soon made another face when he spied a long loveseat couch. He recalled the time Mr. Mukki napped there… wearing only a bright green thong with pink fuzzy socks.

Cloud still couldn't wash that image from his mind.

At the very least, Mr. Mukki was a tidy man. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere and the air smelled of pumpkin spice. All of the paperwork was neatly piled together on top of a glassy, yellow-lit desk, along with a laptop. The corkboard nearby was evenly littered with pink heart-shaped notes. All the trash had already been taken out. Not far away was a bench press with a rack of dumbbells. They were placed in their sequential numbers.

Cloud slowly spun his seat around while he popped a big bubble in his mouth. His eyes locked onto Mr. Mukki's infamous surveillance system. He smirked. Ah, yes. _That_.

The surveillance system was the boss's pride and joy. Ten top-modeled, high-definition monitors were stacked together as a group against the far back wall. Below them, a long shelf housed a number of discs that contained recorded footage. Each monitor offered fully colored interior and exterior shots of the restaurant. It was a well-known fact Mr. Mukki liked to spy on his employees through his _extra pair of eyes_. Cloud imagined that in this small funky office, Mr. Mukki became a God.

In monitors one and two, Cloud saw various shots of the main eating area. Onscreen, Ele' served. There was a large amount of people in the restaurant, more than the usual amount for a Thursday morning. A man touched Ele's ass while she briefly bent to set down his tray. She promptly twisted his hand in one quick move. With no audio, Cloud watched the man silently yell and fall back on his chair. Asshole.

Monitor three provided an interior shot of the kitchen. Dressed in the mandatory Chocobo Chow apron, Biggs was in the middle of picking his nose when he suddenly noticed one of the patties burning at the cooking section. He quickly grabbed a fire extinguisher. Several robotic units scurried to his aid; their emergency lights blazed. The entire screen soon became a cloud of white spray. Biggs. What an idiot.

Monitor four covered the prep area. A few part-time rookies struggled with the station's interface commands. Two were in the middle of a heated verbal exchange. Both pointed their fingers at the other while their fluffy Chocobo hats furiously bounced up and down any time they shook their heads. Another employee blankly stared at a wall. He had the look of a dazed man questioning his life's decisions. Good grief.

An exterior downward shot of the drive-thru appeared in camera five. There was a long line of customers waiting to be tended to. Again, it was more than their usual attendance. Cloud wondered why so many had come. This was quickly turning into a hellish day at Chocobo Chow.

Monitors six and seven presented the restaurant's parking lot. It was nearly packed with cars. More still came through the other entrance. One of the cameras showed Wedge rolling out of Chocobo Chow with the food truck. He nearly ran over a dog but managed to swerve in the last second and hit the corner of a dumpster instead. Niiiiiice. That would cost a pretty Gil.

Monitor eight was another exterior shot. It displayed the children's playpen. Due to the chilly weather and it being a school day, not many children played outside. A mother and her tiny daughter occupied the Chocobo slide while a private schoolboy clad in dark clothes sat by himself on a Chocobo swing. The lonely boy swung up and down. His short silvery hair waved back and forth against the wind. He never looked up; never showed his face. It was as if he knew the hidden camera was there.

Cloud inwardly scoffed to himself. He wasn't surprised Mr. Mukki had a shot of every major location in his restaurant. Only monitors nine and ten were turned off. Curiosity got the best of the teen as he stared at the two blank screens. Then Cloud stood and approached the surveillance system. Turning the two monitors on, he narrowed his eyes at what he saw.

Monitor nine contained an interior shot of the men's restroom. It exposed the urinals while camera ten covered a top perspective of the stalls. As if Mr. Mukki's creep factor wasn't already high enough, Cloud now had undeniable proof he was a Peeping Tom. What a very sad and horny man.

Footsteps approached from an adjacent hallway. Cloud switched off the two monitors and hurried back to his seat. A moment later, the manager arrived.

Mr. Mukki held a PHS in one hand while he carried a cup of hot coffee in the other. Both of his eyes remained puffy from Wedge's accident an hour ago. He blinked twice in rapid succession, but could still see where he walked. At least the manager didn't wail like a baby anymore. That shit had been annoying. Briefly, Mr. Mukki looked up at Cloud. His smile appeared lopsided as he made his way to the desk and set down his items.

"Sorry for the wait, bubby," the manager started. "Mukki had a loooooot of things on his plate. So many things; so little time. Tick-tock, tick-tock."

Cloud quietly chewed on his gum. He wondered if that meant good news or bad news.

"Eh, how is Mukki's bubby holding up?" the manager pressed again.

The teen popped a bubble. Cloud wanted this show to start already. He always hated small talk.

"Oy, don't be afraid to talk. Mukki is here for his bubby." The manager waited for a response. When none still came, he sipped some of his coffee. Then he turned on his laptop and typed something on the keyboard. His eyes stayed on the screen as he asked, "Bubby, you know why you're here, right?"

Cloud nodded.

"Watch this," urged the big guy with a sigh. He turned his laptop around and mentioned, "Someone linked Mukki this. Mukki wants his bubby to see it."

On his laptop screen was the MyTube website; a popular place where many online users uploaded random material for their viewing pleasure. At the _What's Hot_ section, there was a recent video entitled, _Man Pwned by Chocobo_. It was uploaded only half an hour ago. With already eighty thousand views and nearly the same number of _thumbs-up_ approval ratings, it was a major hit.

Cloud's face paled significantly when he recognized the footage: it was a recording of his fight. The author who uploaded it had taken a few creative liberties with it though. Not only did the author colorfully add the fighting theme song from the _Immortal Combat_ videogame in the background, but he or she also included punching sound effects. Two visible health bars appeared throughout the video. The words, _FINISH HIM_, popped up shortly before Chocobo-Cloud knocked down his opponent onscreen. Fake blood animated from the fallen young man as Chocobo-Cloud repeatedly kicked him.

"_FATALITY!_" a dramatic voice boomed from the laptop speakers.

Mr. Mukki lowered the volume after that and cleared his throat. Afterward, he took a very long sip of his coffee and avoided eye contact.

The _Immortal Combat_ theme song occupied the silence that lingered between them. Cloud's face flushed red. In the video's comments section he noticed a large number of people share the video to their friends and favorite online channels. Many had also posted colorful remarks. _Need to invite him to my kid's birthday party_, wrote one online user. _Gimme a spicy order of Kung-POW-Chocobo please_, added another. _When food fights back,_ a third posted.

There were a thousand more wise-ass comments listed below the video. Looking away from it now, Cloud ignored the rest. It was bad enough he fought some random guy in a Chocobo suit, but now he had acquired MyTube notoriety. Nearly swallowing his gum, Cloud's chair squeaked when he sank deeper into it. He wanted to disappear inside his seat.

"Thankfully, the recording never shows bubby's face," Mr. Mukki mentioned when he noticed the uncomfortable look on Cloud. He set his coffee down and immediately added, "There's also some good news. Get this, bubby: _tons_ of bubbies have arrived since the video went viral. In fact, more bubbies keep pouring in by the second. Online orders have tripled!"

Cloud remained tight-lipped, unsure of how to react to this news.

"So technically speaking, Mukki's goal has been accomplished." His lips shaped into a sloppy grin. "Chocobo Chow is getting more traffic and beating the competition by a landslide!"

Still feeling numb by the whole experience, Cloud merely looked down at the carpet. He stared at the vast collection of colorful, flying dicks there.

Pausing now, the manager straightened the left tip of his moustache with two fingers. He expected a response of some kind by now. As before, there was none. Mr. Mukki slowly nodded his head and later disclosed, "The district manager is already aware of the situation, bubby. Mukki talked with him earlier. At first, he was upset. But once Mukki told him about the flood of bubbies stopping by?" The manager suddenly beamed. "Hoo boy, he was excited! He actually wants to change our commercial concept and use a part of your fight for a different edgier message: _Chocobo Chow's menu kicks ass_. Woo!"

Cloud glanced up with only his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to be honored or embarrassed by that change of direction. Regardless, it was actually good news the district manager no longer had a problem. Had he stayed pissed, Mr. Mukki would have had no choice but to fire him right now. Cloud felt his tensed shoulders relax. He waited for his boss to continue.

"The district manager has already issued a statement to a few bubbies from the press who caught whiff of the story. The powers-that-be will handle them though. They're already paying off that guy you beat up, including getting his permission to use his face for the commercial. See? Everyone wins, bubby!" Mr. Mukki clasped his hands together and leaned forward on his desk. "But the district manager specifically instructed Mukki to tell his golden bubby to keep silent. It's a way to keep your anonymity. If anyone asks who the bubby in the Chocobo suit was, Mukki's top ace says: _no comment_. Savvy?"

Dried-mouth, Cloud managed a weak, "Sure…" He honestly wanted to puke at this point.

"Don't worry, bubby, this will all pass over soon enough. Mukki already talked with the others. His bubbies all swore to keep quiet on the matter. Mukki especially had a good talk with Biggs; that particular bubby has a big mouth. But don't worry, I set him straight." He smiled and stood from his chair. While he approached a metal cabinet on the other side of his office, Cloud collected himself.

Only an hour ago Cloud's life had been fine. In fact, the only worries that consumed his mind these days involved the Shinra try-outs and an upcoming date with Jessie. The car mechanic had readily agreed on attending the LOVELESS play with him this weekend. It was a done deal. Cloud already purchased the tickets and found a good restaurant within his budget. But he needed to drop by the Pharmacy soon.

Cloud had gotten along with Jessie surprisingly well. She was easy-going and attractive in a rural kind of way. Like Tifa. Granted, there was the no-kissing rule on the first date. Still. Cloud didn't want to take a chance if he got lucky. Unless Jessie was a fan of the pulling-out method, it would be a good idea to purchase a pack of condoms from the Pharmacy before their date. Just in case. As a precaution. For peace of mind. That's what Cloud kept telling himself.

Unfortunately, buying rubbers proved to be an embarrassing moment for any self-respecting teenager. He had spent the past few days gathering the courage he needed to accomplish his mission. Cloud failed each time. By now, the Pharmacist had seen his face enough times at the counter to suspect he wasn't there for bubblegum or motion sickness pills.

It was never a dull moment in Cloud's life. This morning's event, however, reached a whole new level of absurdity. No way would Shinra or the Tsviets take him seriously if they ever learned he was the infamous Chocobo mascot brawler. That description, alone, didn't inspire fear in the hearts of Behemoths or Shivas. Cloud really hoped Ele' and the others kept their mouth shut. So help him, he would hit a Limit Break if they didn't.

So caught up with his newfound concerns, Cloud didn't notice the lights in the office suddenly go dim. Nor did he pick up the scent of rose from freshly lit candles in the office. It was only when Cloud heard a lonely saxophone play from a stereo that he shot an eye at the manager behind him.

With a file folder in his hand, Mr. Mukki batted his lashes. He must've reapplied cologne since he smelled strongly of mint now. A shade of pink flushed across the older man's cheeks. He grabbed a chair and planted it beside Cloud. That cheesy saxophone music played as Mr. Mukki scooted closer.

Oh _hell_ no, Cloud thought. He promptly readjusted his chair and moved it inches away from the bear man. Cloud soon demanded, "Are we done here, sir?"

Mr. Mukki blinked for a moment, as if caught off guard by the question. Or perhaps he just realized his _charms_ didn't work on a grumpy seventeen-year-old boy with a lot on his plate right now. Regardless, Mr. Mukki blushed and showcased a shining smile. "Mukki understands his golden bubby will be enlisting in Shinra's army come spring time, right?"

Cloud kept his arms crossed and guard up. He settled for a nod.

"That's too bad. Mukki's bubby is the hardest worker bee here."

In his seat, Cloud stayed quiet. A part of him grew anxious by those words. Mr. Mukki had always known about his desire to enlist. Everyone did. Still, the big dork never took it seriously and assumed it would never happen. A concerning thought suddenly crossed Cloud's mind.

"Mukki is sad to hear his bubby wants to leave," the manager admitted. His thick moustache drooped downward. "Mukki had hoped his bubby would change his mind, especially since you've been here for three years."

Cloud stopped chewing on his gum. That unsettling thought in his head grew tenfold. He didn't like the direction of this conversation. It was common practice for the fast-food industry to dump any persons with no future prospects toward the company. College degreed grads and those enlisting in the army were often the case. Chocobo Chow preferred employees who remained loyal in the long run. It was financially viable for them. Less training. Less investment time. Less fuss. With the ongoing flood of applicants who sought work on the Plate, from below and above, it was easy to replace a guy like him. The nasty write-ups on his record also didn't help. Cloud stared at the space between his feet again.

"Mukki's bubby is always here on time," continued the manager. He opened the folder in his hands. "You keep focused on the task at hand and take the initiative. Believe Mukki when he says he pays attention to everything that goes on in his restaurant. All of it."

Cloud didn't doubt that for a second. However, Mr. Mukki's shady extracurricular activities were the least of his concerns right now. More and more, Cloud became worried. This private talk had all the unsettling vibe of an 'it's-not-you-it's-me' goodbye speech.

He needed this job. Fucking _needed_ it. There was the monthly rent, food expenses, and evening class to cover. Even his commute fees added up. Perverted bosses and annoying customers Cloud could handle. If he had to wear that stupid Chocobo suit again and refer to himself in the third person too, he'd do it. But losing his job? Living in the streets? Not having the Gil to pay his reapplication fee for Shinra? No. That was too much for Cloud. He'd come this far and survived without resorting to drugs or prostitution like all the other boys his age did. Cloud Strife may have been a lot of things. Reckless. Foolish. Hot-headed. But he was no sell-out. Cloud had his spirit and that was the only thing keeping him going.

"Mr. Mukki," Cloud finally interjected before things got too far, "I know I lost my cool early this morning. That was stupid. But I'll get better. It won't happen again. And I'll always give double the effort. Even if I'm trying to enlist, that doesn't change my dedication to this restaurant or the company."

"Mukki knows… Mukki knows…" the manager quietly affirmed. He took out a sheet of paper from the folder and held it in one hand. "That's why Mukki has to personally tell you this news…"

Cloud became silent again. He held his breath and waited for the inevitable two words: _you're fired_.

"Mukki knows you have your ups and downs. Mukki has had to write up all the naughty-naughty things his bubby did. But…" The manager's voice trailed into silence. Looking at Cloud now, he offered the sheet of paper to him and didn't say another word.

Cloud's initial reaction was not to accept it. From his seat, he glared at the paper as if it were a deadly virus being passed to him. He mentally concluded it was his resignation paper. This was it. This was his worst case scenario come to pass. Cloud wasn't sure whether to accept defeat or fight for his job.

"Mukki wanted his bubby here…" the manager spoke again when Cloud refused to take the paper, "…because Mukki has an assistant manager's position opened."

In his seat, Cloud paused. He frowned. When he managed to find his voice again, the sound that slid out of his mouth was low and rough. "Uh, _what?_"

"An assistant manager's position is opened."

Cloud still didn't understand what this had to do with him. He was about to get fired. He was here to fill out the necessary paperwork and turn in his uniform. Wasn't he?

"Mr. Mukki thinks you would make a good manager." The coarse moustache stretched as he smiled. "This is the application for it. Here. Take it."

Cloud sat still. His eyes locked on Mr. Mukki. Then he glanced at the paper. He slowly blinked. It had to be a trap. There was no way Mr. Mukki would offer him a promotion. Just an hour ago Cloud had made a fool of himself. He had fought a random guy on the street while dressed as a fucking Chocobo. It earned him a court date and fine. Yet, here was Mr. Mukki. Offering him a promotion?

Cloud finally exhaled and slumped in his seat. His body required more oxygen to process this train of thought. None of it made sense. The teen concluded Mr. Mukki must've smoked something before their meeting. The manager obviously got the wrong guy.

"Bubby, the pay would be good for you," the manager disclosed, noticing Cloud's hesitation. "It would get you out of the Slums. You could own your own home. Full healthcare benefits too. It's the works."

Cloud forced his mouth to work again. He shook his head. "But… _why?_ I just… I'm not even sure… Am I even qualified for this position? I just screwed up this morning."

"Everyone makes mistakes," the big guy reminded Cloud with a single nod. "Mukki makes plenty. Hah, so many. You wouldn't believe how many! But Mukki sees a lot of potential in you. Mukki believes you would make a great leader someday. You're the one to lead the bubbies during lunchtime rush hour. Heh, with that type of leadership, you could lead a group of strangers through the apocalypse."

Staring at the application in the manager's hands, Cloud didn't know how to feel about this. It was so sudden. An assistant manager position provided a permanent job with an opportunity to go up the social ladder. Cloud could afford an apartment at the Plate since the salary was good. Hell, he could visit his mom whenever he wanted and check out the beaches in Costa del Sol. His healthcare and dental would be covered. No more scrapping by. No more making ends meet. It was the ideal position he could get as a non-degree, home-schooled country boy his age.

However. Mr. Mukki got the wrong guy. Cloud wasn't _leader_ material. He could barely balance his own life, let alone a group of people. In the times Cloud managed a kitchen disaster or fixed an issue at the prep station he accounted it to pure luck. The incident this morning proved he had his limits and wasn't the most level-headed man for the job. Once someone pushed his buttons he went off like a bomb. With a soft sigh, Cloud rubbed a tensed spot at the back of his neck with a hand. To him, the most concerning aspect of this promotion didn't just involve his inability to fulfill the role. It was the fact it also closed off many doors. Including the one that led to the Tsviets.

"Bubby, you don't need to give Mukki an answer right now. But think it over, okay?" the manager said after a long moment of silence between them. "Think long and hard but know this window of opportunity won't last long. Mukki has to fill up the spot as soon as possible. A lot of bubbies want this position, including those from the Plate with their fancy business degrees. Mukki wanted to give you first dibs though. You're Mukki's number one."

"Just like that?" Cloud quietly asked. His doubtful, wary mind refused to accept this offer at full value. "You're telling me I'd get the position if I just filled out this application? Today? Right now?"

"Yep. Yep. And yep."

"But my track record…" the teen pointed out, "My lack of degree… Experience… My age…"

"Let Mukki handle that. Mukki will send in a good word for his bubby to the district manager. You'll also receive training for the position if you accept it. Don't worry about any of that." The manager winked. "But think it over. Okay? Not many opportunities come to a boy like you, especially with your history."

Cloud winced a bit, slightly taken aback by that last comment. Yet, his boss was right. Mr. Mukki may have been a weirdo but he possessed a genuine concern for his bubbies. This was the boss's way of getting Cloud out of that shithole in the Slums. It was why he had first dibs in the position. Mr. Mukki wanted the job to go to someone who could benefit most from it, whether they were fully qualified for it or not. This type of decision-making made Mr. Mukki the best and worse manager in the world.

Accepting the application at last, Cloud briefly looked over it. It contained the typical questions. Nothing too fancy. He didn't doubt the job provided a golden opportunity many wanted, including the more qualified variety. And here it was. In his hands. _Literally_. The completion of this application form would secure him for life. End of story. Cloud's fingers clutched the form.

"The coming weeks look busy, by the way," Mr. Mukki mentioned and sipped his coffee. "A lot of bubbies are visiting Midgar City for the opening winter festivals. This means Mukki has a lot of hours to give. Bubby, you'll be getting extra time on the clock, as many hours as an assistant manager's. Okay?"

There was a small smile on Cloud's face. Extra hours meant extra Gil. He'd need to work his training schedule and class around it, but it was definitely worth it. It meant more income to cover his regular expenses. Perhaps he could even indulge himself and get a proper haircut.

"It'll be a lot of hard work," the manager warned. "The upcoming schedule will give bubby an idea of the hours. Um… the girlfriend might not see you too much."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Cloud corrected, "so it won't be an issue."

"_Oh?_" Mr. Mukki's eyes abruptly lit up and he sat straighter. "_No_ girlfriend, bubby?"

Cloud frowned. He instantly regretted exposing that bit of information. It wasn't long before the big bear donned a goofy grin on his face. His thick moustache sparked with a life of its own. Mr. Mukki pulled out a handkerchief from his coat's pocket and patted himself. He profusely sweated now.

"That's unfortunate, bubby," he later said. Obviously not sad. "A bright bubby like you… _Single._ Imagine that? Such cruelty. The inhumanity."

"Yea, _imagine that_…" Cloud sarcastically spat back. He nearly rolled his eyes.

Mr. Mukki scooted close to him again. In the dimly lit office, more saxophone music played. The fire of the candles flickered. Mr. Mukki stretched his arms upward and dramatically yawned. He swung a bulky arm around Cloud's shoulders. As if it was an accident. Riiiight. Cloud tried not to laugh at his boss's cheap and very cliché advances. His nose wrinkled at the intense scent of mint.

"I need to head off, sir," Cloud informed and stood, ready to leave. "I appreciate your recommendation. I'll definitely look over the application and give you my answer as soon as possible."

"Oh, bubby, stay and relaaaaax." The stupid grin never left Mr. Mukki's face. He eagerly patted on the empty spot Cloud had occupied just a second ago. "Daddy gets so lonely sometimes."

"Not interested." Cloud folded the application several times before slipping it into a back pocket. Then he headed out the door.


	13. Night Creepers

**Author's Note:** _ I find these types of daily life moments fun to write. It gives me a chance to drive into Cloud's private little world. Warning: disturbing moments, some mature content._

* * *

CHAPTER 12: Night Creepers

By the time Cloud's shift ended his watch read ten minutes past eight. The commute back home via train had become a tiring, tedious affair due to rampant thoughts pertaining to today's events. Those thoughts constantly replayed themselves to the point of giving Cloud a headache. It was because of this he avoided MyTube or any mentions of his fight while randomly browsing online with his PHS. He checked his inbox and any news on the Tsviets, instead, trying to place his focus and mind on those types of things. But while it was easy to dismiss the Chocobo Chow video, he had a harder time setting aside the job promotion Mr. Mukki had offered him.

Sitting by himself at the far back of the train, Cloud's troubled mind weighed two life-changing decisions back and forth. One path led to a dull, yet financially stable future. The other route proved fulfilling yet questionable, uncertain, and dangerous. Cloud's dream possessed all the fragility of an eggshell.

Outside his window, Cloud observed his descent to the underworld. The train had a long ways to go. Above his head, beams of florescent lights flickered on and off again while the metal walls loudly rattled from the train's non-stop motion. Horns blew at intersections.

The pill he'd taken for his motion sickness already settled in his stomach. Cloud made no sudden movements in his seat though and took long steady breaths throughout his trip. Wearing his ear buds, the teenager kept to himself as usual. Not many people used the train during the evening hours. Those that did often weren't the inviting kind.

There were roughly ten passengers in the compartment with Cloud. Most of them were Slum residents. Five seats ahead, a prostitute currently sat on top of a pale skinny thug. Her mini-skirt was hiked up to her hips. The woman's exposed breasts flopped up and down while she vigorously grinded her ass against him in a fast rhythm. She tossed her head back and groaned. Cloud looked away from the crude scene, fearful it would bring about an unwanted stiffness. He increased the volume of his music to block out the heavy grunts and skin-slapping noise. Closing his eyes, he slept halfway through his commute.

In his dream, Cloud saw a proud yellow Chocobo. The _Chocobo, Chocobo_ song played in the background on repeat. Mr. Mukki made an awkward appearance as a butterfly. His rainbow-colored wings fluttered and sprinkled glitter. Again and again he told the yellow Chocobo to follow him to the ranch where all the other Chocobos flocked. It was a safe and happy place, he mentioned. Mukki-the-Butterfly promised to make the bird leader of the pack. But the lovely yellow Chocobo turned away and dashed toward an open field of green instead.

The beautiful landscape had many hills and a few sprouting trees. Brightly-colored flowers blossomed. The grass stood inches tall and the air felt warm by the sun. Flapping its wings, the yellow Chocobo scurried further into the great unknown. Then it abruptly stopped.

On one of the hills there stood a tall, dark shape. The ominous figure had no face. With long slender arms, it beckoned to the Chocobo to come to it. The feathers on the big yellow bird quivered, both terrified and excited by this mysterious presence. All the while, the song played on.

_Chocobo, Chocobo  
You're mine now, pretty Chocobo  
Hush, you squalling thing, hear what I say  
We'll stalk the fields together, somehow, someday_

By the time Cloud woke up, the train's operator was in the middle of announcing his stop. He must've been asleep for longer than he thought, Cloud realized. Both the whore and her client were gone. Only two passengers remained in the train's compartment with him. There was the beggar who muttered nonstop about Death close by and a silver-hair child who sat by himself at a far corner; his back facing everyone.

Cloud rubbed at his tired eyes and sat up. He checked his person to make sure he hadn't been robbed during his nap. Thankfully, his PHS was still in his coat's pocket and the tape wrapped around his barcode tattoo hadn't been tampered with. A few minutes later the train arrived at his stop. The double doors spread opened and Cloud walked through them. He stepped onto a poorly lit platform.

The air was stale and heavy. Cloud could smell the ash of burning cigarettes and musky stench of days' old unwashed skin. At this time of the evening, the Slums' train station harbored a modest amount of people. Most were dealers, gangs, and beggars. They lingered at the station on a regular basis in search of potential victims, particularly Plate-residents who needed to return top-side. But there was another group of people that inhabited this place. They were known as the _Night Creepers_.

With no moon or streetlights, the underworld was at its darkest during the evening hours. Only a few fire-lit lanterns and barrels offered warmth and visibility from the cold, pitch-black environment. Whereas Wall Market and other hot spots were fortunate enough to have power generators, the rest of the Slums remained in total darkness. This became a problematic issue for any Slum resident who wanted to travel about in the evening hours. That was when the Night Creepers stepped in.

The Night Creepers appeared with lanterns or flashlights in hand, serving as nocturnal guides to anyone in exchange for a small fee. They set up shop at all relevant locations in the Slums, including the train station. Most of them were children or elders; people too young or vulnerable to find other means of employment. The life of a Night Creeper was a dangerous one though. Any of them could be raped, beaten, mugged, or murdered on the job.

Sitting on a bench at the platform, Cloud found a scrawny female child with a vintage-newsboy cap. Shaggy black bangs covered half of her face, revealing a scar on her left cheek. The tiny Night Creeper wore a stained blouse double her size; her knee-low shorts were held up by suspenders. One leg was wrapped in a long dirty cloth. With two baby teeth missing, she smiled as Cloud approached her.

"Cloudie! You'th finally here." The child beamed. Her high-pitched voice contained a strong lisp. "I'th waited for ya like I'th prom'ithed."

"Heya, Lisp." Cloud returned her smile. He never knew the Night Creeper's real name; she never gave it. And so Cloud nicknamed her _Lisp_.

By all accounts, the child didn't belong in the streets or in this dangerous line of work. However, Cloud had learned from Kyle that Lisp's mother, a prostitute, was pregnant with a third child. No father. No extended family. All of this left a financial burden on Lisp. She was the oldest child at seven-years-old. Sympathetic toward her difficult situation, Cloud made Lisp his regular Night Creeper. The little girl was too proud to accept donations so he had no choice but to employ her.

Any time he left for an evening shift, attended class, or randomly visited the Plate during a late hour, he gave Lisp an estimated time and location for their meeting. And at each appointment Lisp showed up. Tonight was no different. She sat at her regular spot and waited for him with lantern in hand.

Once Cloud placed five Gil in Lisp's grimy hand, the child grabbed a rusty, oversized unlit lantern from the bench. She readjusted her cap with a determined look on her face. "Let'th roll, Cloudie."

Lisp got to her feet and led Cloud out of the platform. They exited through a large metal gate to the west side of the station. Beyond that point, they were greeted to a world of darkness. Cloud could barely make out the tell-tale lights from Wall Market at a distance. Lisp struck a match against her sturdy boot and lit up her lantern. The darkness instantly lifted and the two were able to see a few feet ahead. Satisfied, Lisp nodded and took the lead.

Cloud was tempted to hold the light as she struggled to keep it steady with both hands. This always happened. Her thin arms were too weak. But the small girl conjured up a straight face anyway and marched ahead like a little lady on a mission.

Together, they headed to the direction of Cloud's apartment. It was chilly that night, more so due to the early days of winter. A puff of air escaped their lips with each breath produced. Cloud shoved both hands into his coat's pockets. As he followed, he noticed Lisp walk with a wobble. It was from a leg injury she had sustained by an unruly customer last week. The bastard had stolen the kid's earnings and knocked her out cold with a single punch. On her way down, Lisp had twisted her ankle. They never found the creep. To this day, it pissed Cloud off. He watched the young Night Creeper fumble with her oversized lantern again and softly sighed. The scrawny girl could barely keep it from dropping.

"Here, Lisp," Cloud said and snatched the lantern from her when she nearly dropped it for the umpteenth time. Before the child could protest, he lifted the girl up with his free hand. Cloud let her ride on his back while he held the lantern.

"D'aw, Cloudie! I'th can hold the lamp ju'th fine," the stubborn child insisted with a pout on her face.

"I know you can. I just like giving brats like you piggy-backs. Now shut up and let me carry you."

The Night Creeper giggled and playfully tugged at a spikey lock of blond hair. Later, her tiny hands wrapped around Cloud's neck to hold on. They continued on their journey.

As Lisp hummed a random melody, Cloud thought about Tifa. He recalled how Tifa was a rash and stubborn child at Lisp's age. Perhaps that was why he'd taken an immediate liking to the young Night Creeper. Even if Cloud never got the chance to know Tifa Lockhart well, he still missed her and actively looked for people or places that reminded him of her.

Cloud held the light higher. Mountains of trash blocked and created routes to different locations of the Slums. This was as close to _street roads_ as anyone could get down here. Cloud kept to the main paths and avoided small clusters of people. He didn't trust anyone at this time of the night. They trekked down a long-winded trail until they came to a familiar setting composed of wooden-made shacks and lop-sided buildings: his neighborhood.

A modest-sized field with large rocks and steel plates, each painted with names, made up the local cemetery. From a distance, Cloud spotted his apartment complex. It was one of the few places with running electricity and water thanks to its power generators. He paused from his stride when he felt an eerie sensation of another's presence. It was followed by the sounds of shuffled feet.

"Cloudie…?" The Night Creeper was alerted by the noise as well and turned her head.

From his coat's pocket, Cloud removed a switchblade. He pointed the lantern to his left and tried to locate the source of the noise. There was only a wall of discarded metals. To his right, more trash. Nothing. No one was there. Cloud took a long deep breath. He concluded it was a stray dog in search of food and resumed their walk. They weren't far away from his building now. Crushed glass chimed this time when they crossed the cemetery. The noise came directly behind them. Cloud froze in place. Without missing a beat, he twirled around and held up his knife and lantern.

Cloud nearly choked when the light fell on the shadow of a person. It stood by a large engraved rock in the cemetery. The silhouette walked forward. Both Cloud and the Night Creeper got quiet. The teen's hand clutched the switchblade while his heart committed to a faster beat. As this lonely figure stepped further into the light, though, Cloud began to understand the shape better. It was a woman.

The lantern's light cast the fierce orange color of her curly hair. It was pulled up into a disheveled bun. Her entire face contained sharp angles and shapes, from her nose to the chin. Cloud frowned when he noticed her Shinra uniform. The woman donned an officer's outfit, fully decked out with ribbons. Cloud wondered why a top-ranked officer stalked these grounds at this hour. Shinra's officials typically stayed on the Plate. Even in the event of a crisis in the Slums, the company only deployed its lower ranks or Turks to deal with it. There was no reason for an officer of this caliber to be down here.

This wasn't the only aspect of the encounter that baffled Cloud. As he closely observed this Shinra solider, he was struck with powerful hit of déjà vu. He'd seen her before. Somewhere. Some other time. An image came to Cloud. He mentally pictured the woman on her back with her breasts exposed. He saw her face suddenly cringe. Half in pain. Half in delight. A nipple bled red.

_Is this your first time seeing something like this, boy?_

Cloud didn't know what to make of that surreal image. Tempted to ask the female officer if she was okay, he opened his mouth to speak. Then he shut it. The soldier appeared… _off_. She walked passed Cloud and Lisp without a glance and muttered several strings of incoherent words to herself. Her eyes stayed on the ground and never blinked. Engaged in some private debate with herself, she shook her head left to right and made various hand motions. Cloud took a step back, perplexed by the officer's mental state. He watched her walk away until she abruptly stopped.

"Mine. Mine. Mine…" the woman mumbled. "He'll be mine. All mine. No one else can have him. No one can touch him. I'll kill anyone who touches him. I'll fucking kill them all. I swear…"

Lisp's hands gradually tightened around Cloud's neck. Her tiny body went frigid as she kept quiet.

The officer paused for a moment, as if she finally realized she was not alone. She turned and glared directly at Cloud. Her green eyes were intense under the lantern's light. They practically burned. Her voice boomed when she demanded, "_Have you seen her? Is she here?_"

Cloud kept his switchblade to his side. He swallowed hard. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"_Her,_" the soldier hissed, as if he knew what the fuck she was talking about. The woman's face twisted into a look of disgust. "Don't play stupid with me. I know that bitch is here. Somewhere. I'll find her. I won't let her touch him. I'll find out what she looks like and where she lives and deal with her."

_Deal with her_, Cloud repeated in his head. He took another step back. This officer sounded pissed off and ready for a fight. Avoiding eye contact, he muttered back, "Miss, I've no idea what or _who_ you're talking about."

"Of course you wouldn't," the officer barked. She practically hissed at him. "You're pathetic. _All_ of your kind down here is pathetic. Including _her_."

Cloud's eyes bore down on the soldier. He bit back the first offensive remark that popped in his head, partly because she belonged to the very company he wanted to join.

"Your unruly lot is unworthy of my angel's love," the officer continued, "Why my angel would want to see a bitch from the Slums is beyond me. We should drop the Plate on all of you. Squash your kind like the filthy cockroaches you are, especially that whore who wants to take my angel away."

Again, Cloud was tempted to give this woman a piece of his mind. However, he finally understood why she was in the underworld at this late hour. The officer had apparently been betrayed by her lover, this _angel_. Now she sought retribution by confronting the _other_ woman.

"I am the Chosen One," the officer claimed and raised her voice even higher. She sounded on the verge of shouting. "_Me_. I've proven my worth to him. Many times. No one else can have my angel. He's mine. _Mine._ I'll kill them all. I'll gut that bitch once I find her. I already know she lives down here. Hah, my angel thought he was clever. He thought he could hide her from me. But I will learn her face soon enough. He intends to meet with this bitch very soon and when he does I'll _fucking kill her_."

Cloud stared at the deranged woman. That type of behavior was definitely unbecoming of an officer. He couldn't understand how a Shinra employee, especially one with such a high status, could become so _unglued_ like this. Then again, love made people crazy. Some drank up that shit and became obsessed loons. Cloud briefly glanced at his switchblade, making sure the knife was still out. The longer he talked with this bizarre soldier the more uneasy he felt. As if the Slums weren't creepy enough. Cloud suspected it was the same for Lisp.

"Cloudie…" the Night Creeper suddenly whispered into his ear. Her voice sounded low and slightly shaken. "Thi'th woman i'f bad. Let'th go… I'm f'cared…"

Before Cloud could reply, the officer frantically grabbed a chunk of her own beautiful orange hair. She ripped it straight off the scalp and absently stared at the clump. "Why, my sweet love? Why am I not enough for you? Why must you see yet another? Am I not worthy of your love, my angel? Must I _prove_ myself again? You are the will that drives my soul. You are my _God_. I want to see your beautiful face. I want to see your eyes; your lovely green eyes… No one else should see them. Only me. You are mines. Mine…"

The woman repeated _mine_ in a flat monotone voice. All the while, she tore off more of her curly hair. Cloud winced each time he heard a dull, tear sound. Clumps of hair fell to the ground, some still attached to bloody, fleshy bits. Dark blotches quickly formed across the woman's scalp. Lines of blood streaked down her forehead.

"Mine… Mine… Mine…"

The officer suddenly paused from her violent fit and kneeled over. She vomited. Not once or twice but several times in quick succession. Cloud grimaced. Lowering his lantern, the light revealed an icky black substance on the ground. It oozed; almost pulsed. Moaning loudly, the woman continued to spew more blackness from her wet mouth. A wet spot spread between her legs as she pissed on herself.

"Mine… Mine… Mine…" she whispered with a strange smile on her face. Then she vomited again.

It was at this point Cloud heeded Lisp's advice. He retreated from the horrific scene, nearly sprinting. This officer was bat-shit crazy. And apparently sick. A part of Cloud was tempted to call a doctor or the IM for assistance. However, his priority rested in getting Lisp to safety first. He didn't want the young Night Creeper to witness any more of this terrifying woman. Cloud hurried to his home down the block. The darkness of the Slums engulfed the officer. He could still hear her purge in the distance.

Thankfully, they made it to his apartment building without further incident. Cloud and Lisp stood outside his building. They caught their breaths; both of them on edge. With a quiet sigh, he finally bent down on one knee. The Night Creeper got off.

"Lisp, come inside," Cloud practically ordered and handed the child back her lantern. "I don't want you going just yet, not with that crazy soldier still out there."

Lisp's tiny hands gripped the handle of her lantern. Her lower lip quivered but not from the chilly air. She nodded in silence.

Together, they approached the entrance of the five-storied building in front of them. From the outside, Cloud's _apartment building_ was nothing more than a make-shift structure constructed of flimsy rusted metal sheets, chipped red brick, and iron beams that dangled outward dangerously. All sorts of crude words and gang-affiliated symbols were spray-painted across its walls. The wooden sign itself, _El Palacio_, missed a few letters. Because of the rotten foundation, the apartment leaned heavily to the right.

Cloud pushed past the metal double doors. They squeaked loudly. Home sweet home. He opted to take the elevator to his floor. Cloud shoved the gate to the side and let the child enter first. Afterward, he clicked on his floor button. A single light bulb buzzed while the elevator whirled to life. No doubt, it sucked up a lot of juice in this building. On various occasions the elevator had a tendency to shut down and get stuck in between a floor. Cloud hoped it wouldn't happen tonight since he was too wired up to deal with a malfunction, especially with a child by his side. He pressed his back against a gated wall and slumped there. The wires and cables whined loudly and the elevator started its slow ascent.

Lisp looked up at the teen with her big black eyes. Quietly, she asked, "Wa'f that woman f'ick?"

"Yeah. She looked sick…" Cloud dryly commented back. He paused when he noticed the look of fear on Lisp's face. He soon added, "But don't worry: we're fine. We didn't catch anything from her."

"You f'ure?"

"Mm-hm. That woman probably ate something bad. Food poisoning. You know? That happens. Even at Chocobo Chow. _Especially_ at Chocobo Chow." Cloud forced a small smile.

With rumors of a dangerous virus on the loose, it was no wonder why the child looked scared. Lisp struggled to keep her lantern upright. Her brows pulled together as she appeared deep in thought. Eventually, she nodded and smiled at Cloud's dry joke.

The two kept silent after that. While the elevator rose, Cloud stared at the posters, business cards, and newspaper clippings that littered the gated walls. The elevator served as a place people posted current happenings or events. On the ceiling a religious fanatic wrote _Promised Land_ at least thirty times. Not far from Cloud, there were newspaper clippings of _Midgar Times_. Most involved the corpse sightings across the city. One particular headline intrigued the boy. According to the title, forensics had finally identified the corpse from the museum last week. It belonged to a man named Marko Simmons. His obituary was listed in the article.

For Cloud, it was strange seeing Marko's face with his skin intact. His distorted body had been embedded in Cloud's memory that it became nearly impossible to connect the average-looking mug shot on the newspaper with the smiling corpse. According to the article, Marko Simmons was twenty-four-years-old at the time of his death. An architect from the Urban Development Department, he had no wife or children. Up until his untimely demise he had lived a normal life. Nothing about the man proved unique. He was like the rest of the worker bees in Shinra. A dark thought crept in Cloud's mind.

In a way, Marko's ho-hum existence had been replaced by something extraordinary. His death, however grotesque and disturbing as it was, immortalized him. People would still remember him in the years to come. Marko was the man who had died with a smile on his face.

Cloud bit the tip of his tongue. He hated how warped his young mind worked. That gloomy, pessimistic nature of his got the best of him sometimes. Yet, already, he could see himself in Marko Simmons's same shoes prior to the man's death. _Here rested Cloud Strife. No wife. No children. He resided in the Slums and worked at Chocobo Chow. He was survived by his mother and dog. The end._ That described his obituary in a nutshell. His bones would be buried in the land of trash along with the other has-beens at the Slums' cemetery. A rock or some discarded steel plate with his name painted on it would provide the only proof he ever existed. If he was lucky no one would misspell it or mistake his rock for a seat. Feeling depressed by this stream of thought, Cloud forced his eyes away from the newspaper article.

Cable beams shrieked. At last, the elevator arrived on his floor with a thump. Cloud opened the gate for Lisp. Once the elevator was closed, he joined the child on the hallway and headed for his apartment. The door opened after a few labored tries and Cloud switched on the light.

Almost immediately, Ms. Tinker leapt out of nowhere. The excited dog tackled Cloud's legs. Her tail wagged non-stop. Whimpering, she sounded on the verge of tears over her master's return. Cloud knelt down and scratched behind his pet's floppy ears.

"If you're hungry there are some leftovers in the fridge," Cloud notified to Lisp and nodded at the 'kitchen' area. Afterward, he went to the door and chain-bolted it. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna make a quick phone call."

While the prospect of food enticed the young Night Creeper, she briefly sat beside Ms. Tinker and patted her head. The dog sloppily licked her hands nonstop. Lisp giggled. "D'aw! Good doggie! Purty!"

With the kid occupied, Cloud took this opportunity to call for help. He pulled out his PHS and approached his window. Pushing aside the curtain, the view showed only the bricked texture of the building next door. Even so, by standing at a specific corner spot he could peek outside. There was a narrow alleyway between his building and the next. Beyond it was a small overview of the neighborhood, including the cemetery.

Whether the deranged soldier was still out there Cloud did not know. Everything stayed pitched black beyond his apartment building. Cloud's fingers dialed the emergency system's number. Seconds later, he heard a familiar theme song from Shinra Incorporation play. It was followed by a female's voice that sounded so calm he initially mistook it for an automatic voice message.

"_This is Shinra's Emergency Call Center. How may I direct your call?_"

"Um, hey," Cloud answered the operator. "I'd like to make a report here at Sector 7. Or, uh, I don't know, an emergency?"

Cloud relayed his entire encounter with the strange soldier. When asked if he wished to disclose his personal information and act as a key witness in the event of a court martial, he opted out. The last thing Cloud wanted was for this crazy bitch to come after _him_. He'd only called to get the soldier the medical attention she needed anyway.

A part of Cloud thought about the supposed _biological virus_ rumors he had read online. Like Lisp before, he inwardly feared he'd come into contact with whatever made the soldier ill. He'd shower five times tonight for sure, Cloud told himself.

A few more questions were asked. Cloud didn't know what to make of these inquiries. Was the officer alone when he saw her? Yes. Had the officer mention any names during their encounter? Sorta. Could he describe the black substance? Icky and fucked up. Did the soldier exhibit any unusual behavior such as violence toward herself or others? Hell yeah, she did. Was her skin discolored? Not that he noticed. What was the color of her eyes? He didn't remember; he was too busy staring at her bloody head. Throughout the questions, Shinra's operator maintained a single-toned voice. It disturbed Cloud in a way. Eventually, the conversation ended and twenty minutes later he heard sirens in his block.

Peeping outside from his corner spot by the window, Cloud discovered a black armored vehicle with flashing yellow lights. The diamond-shaped logo of Shinra Inc. appeared on its side. A group of people stepped out with flashlights in hand. The party consisted of three Shinra infantrymen and two individuals in light-gray overalls with face masks.

Having studied the entire hierarchy of Shinra Incorporation and its mandatory dress codes, Cloud knew the gray-suited individuals came from the Science division. He hoped their presence didn't confirm an outbreak. In which case, the whole area would be quarantined, starting with _his_ residency. Hell no.

Cloud's face quickly drew into a frown when he spotted the final person in the party. A man with an arm sling was the last to step out of the vehicle. It was a Turk: Vincent Valentine.

Strange. On matters like this, the Turks weren't called in. It was a job assigned to the Security Department. Perhaps it was because this involved a highly ranked officer of Shinra it required the presence of a Turk. Cloud had no idea. He saw the man in the sharp suit briefly stay behind and take in the area with one long sweeping gaze. Valentine's red eyes shined. The Turk finally ventured into the cemetery with the others. Beams from their flashlights penetrated through the darkness.

Cloud quietly cursed when his limited vision prevented him from seeing much of the action outside. He practically pushed his face against the window's glass to get a better view.

It was around this time Lisp stood. She'd eaten the leftovers Cloud had offered and now appeared ready to leave. "Thank'th for the grub, but I'th need to go now," Lisp announced and grabbed her lantern.

Cloud tried one more time to get a better look of the scene outside. The group of six moved beyond his field of vision. Damn. Reluctantly, he gave up and pulled away from the window. Cloud finally turned his attentions to the child. "Are you sure?"

"Mm-hm."

His brows furrowed, still concerned over her safety. "You can stay at my place tonight, you know. I got an extra blanket and pillow."

The child shook her head. "Aw, Cloudie. Thank'th. But I haf more round'th to run tonight. Momma need'th the Gil."

Cloud crossed his arms but nodded in understanding. He later removed an extra ten Gil from his pocket and put it in her palm. It was the least he could do considering what they had just encountered. "This is a tip for a job well done. Take it, Lisp."

"Wow, thank'th ya, Cloudie!" The child's eyes danced in the light.

"Will you be okay though?" he pressed again, "I'll walk you out."

"Pft. Don't worry about me, Cloudie. I'm not a baby."

"I know. But be careful, Lisp. Seriously." Cloud pulled out his switchblade and stared at it for a moment. He didn't like the idea of giving a minor a weapon. Then again, he didn't like the idea of Lisp going out there unprotected. Cloud offered it to the child. "Take this."

Lisp glanced at the pocket knife. She frowned. "It'th okay. I'll be okay, Cloudie."

"I know you will, kid. But I'll sleep better tonight if you took it anyway."

Lisp exhaled as she looked back and forth between Cloud and the pocket knife. She must've known Cloud wouldn't take _no_ for an answer because she finally accepted it. "Thank'th…"

"Don't go stabbing your eye with it. And promise me you'll head home soon. Just for tonight. Got it?"

"'Kay, _dad_…" Lisp replied, sounding irritated. She walked over to Ms. Tinker and patted the dog. To Cloud, she said, "If ya need me again, lemme know. 'Kay, Cloudie?"

"Always." The teenager undid the door's bolts for her. He saw Lisp balance her lantern with both hands again on her way out. With a lout snort, Cloud caught the girl's lantern before it slipped from her fingers. "You got butterfingers, Lisp, I swear."

The Night Creeper stuck her tongue at him. Then her eyes softened. Quietly, she urged, "You'th be careful too. I don't want ya to get f'ick. Promi'th me ya won't get f'ick like that lady, Cloudie. _Promi'th._"

Cloud stared at the child. He silently nodded back. "Promise."

Lisp quickly smiled. Her shoulders relaxed. After a sloppy hand salute, the little lady stepped out.

Cloud closed the door after Lisp. He soon overheard the elevator's gate open and close in the hallway. Its cables moaned loudly during its descent. When the elevator finally reached the bottom floor, Cloud walked to his window again. Lisp's lantern could now be seen outside. It shined brightly within the darkness. Cloud kept a watchful eye on Lisp and hoped the Night Creeper would change her mind and return or stay safe during her evening ventures. As she headed northbound, he focused on her lantern's light until it gradually disappeared from his line of sight. Cloud exhaled slowly.

From where he stood, the country boy saw nothing. Even Shinra's people were nowhere to be seen. Their abandoned vehicle's emergency lights still bathed the whole block yellow with its nonstop flashes. A few people from the building next door had cracked opened their windows to peer outside. Nothing came from it though. Everyone remained clueless over what had just happened. But Cloud knew. Somewhere in this world of pitch blackness was a strange woman driven by her own despair.

Cloud pursed his lips. He recalled the eerie, flat sound of the woman's voice in his head. _Mine, mine, mine…_ Nothing had fazed her, only that twisted obsession she reserved for her lover and the _whore_ that stood between them. It brought the soldier to the point of a mental breakdown. She was also sick, _very_ sick. An unstable woman like that was capable of anything. And on that note, Cloud checked his window to make sure it was secured.

Sure, she hadn't followed him home. She was in search of another woman; the same woman who'd attracted the attention of her green-eyed _angel_. Yet, the disgruntled soldier currently stalked for this alleged whore in Cloud's neighborhood. Had the officer kept an eye on him during his retreat, she'd have known which of the buildings he occupied. Cloud didn't want to consider that possibility.

His heart raced when he realized he forgot to lock the door after Lisp left. Paranoia got the best of Cloud as he took several slow steps toward it. His heart thumped louder. He recalled all the cheesy horror films he'd watched. They all involved some stupid protagonist forgetting to lock the door only to be surprised by the killer soon afterward. Cloud halfway expected the door to slam open and a terrifying woman to jump at him with a shriek. It thankfully never happened. There was no boogeyman. It was all in his head. Even after Cloud chained and bolted his door and looked through its peephole as a precaution, he saw only an unoccupied hallway. Nothing was amiss. He was safe.

Cloud breathed out loud and ran both hands through his damped hair. He reminded himself Shinra's best people were on the case. They'd definitely find the woman, especially with a Turk among them. Besides, Ms. Tinker didn't appear alarmed right now. Resting at her usual spot by his skateboard, she would've barked had she sensed an intruder. Cloud also had his sword to defend himself. There was nothing to fear. He was just being an overly paranoid chicken-shit pansy.

Cloud growled, annoyed with himself. It was time to stop acting like a baby. He started to strip off his clothes for a long-overdue shower. Considering the hectic day he had, he certainly earned it.

Cloud entered his bathroom in the nude and tossed today's used uniform into the clothes bin. As soon as he turned on the showerhead he stepped inside. Cloud softly hissed under the lines of hot water. At first, the tiny pricks of intense heat against his skin made him wince. But the teen finally welcomed the sensation as it brought him out of his paranoid state. Cloud placed both palms against the tiled wall and thoroughly soaked his body, not bothering with the soap or shampoo yet.

Hot air collected. It created a thick mist in the bathroom. As his skin softened, Cloud considered jerking himself off. Playing with his cock always eased the tension in his belly. He needed it now more than ever. But after a few furious strokes Cloud remained limp. He couldn't relax. His restless mind entertained too many questions and concerns. Among them was the unfortunate woman the deranged soldier had sought.

Cloud felt a great swell of pity toward this _whore_. Whoever she was, she wasn't safe. A psychotic officer was on the hunt for her head. Hell hath no fury than a woman's scorn. Cloud nearly chuckled at the thought while he grabbed the bar of soap and applied it over his skin. All things considered, he was lucky. It had been a rotten day for him today. But at least he didn't have some sick broad searching for him right now with the intent of killing him. The last time he checked, Cloud hadn't attracted the attention of any green-eyed angels. Thank Gaia.


	14. Taste

**Author's Note:** _Prepare yourself ghouls and boils for some sexual-related moments, a few innuendos, and taboo discussion. Anything goes whenever Kyle enters the picture._

* * *

CHAPTER 13: Taste

Balance. It was all about balance. That's what Cloud told himself as he raised a broadsword an inch closer to his cheek and held it at a perfect horizontal line with two hands on the handle. Both legs were spread apart and slightly bent at the knees. He stood shirtless on the rooftop of his apartment building while some Wutai-pop song played from a nearby stereo. Translated, it merely repeated: _Gimme-gimme-love. Gimme-that-sweet- honeydew love._ The song's fast beat kept Cloud's heart pumping.

On the rooftop, the teenager saw a clear view of the Slums, everything from Wall Market to the residential make-shift homes. Surrounding him, hand-washed bed sheets hung from crossed clotheslines. The sheets flapped under a cool breeze and offered him privacy for his daily morning practice. That familiar stench of copper and burnt paper reached his nostrils: a typical smell in this neighborhood. The chilly air bit into his skin but he didn't mind it. The Slums' weather was nothing when compared to the early winters in Nibelheim. Cloud's face grew damped by his rigorous activities anyway.

While the rooftop wasn't the ideal location to practice his sword fighting, Cloud appreciated the lack of people and open space. He'd rather be outside surrounded by a sea of trash and a giant metal plate over his head than stuck in his tiny apartment with loud neighbors and poor air circulation.

Blade in hand, Cloud struck the makeshift dummy in front of him. He performed a downward thrust and spun around with the heel of his foot. A side swipe connected a second later. Cloud paced himself and kept on the move. Real opponents didn't stand still. Rather, they staggered, lunged, and jerked left or right. Sword fighting was a chaotic waltz coordinated by split-second decisions. If his enemy moved forward with his left foot, he needed to step back with his right. If his opponent attacked with a high stance, he defended with a low guard.

This waltz never ended until someone conceded in defeat. Or fell dead. Such was the fate of a sword fighter. Any man who took up the blade had readily embraced Death as his eternal dance partner.

As Cloud attacked the dummy, he thought about the words his mother once shared with him during their hunts. Only a few people possessed the caliber and devotion to become a _true_ swordsman. Once the steel became a part of the warrior he would live and die by it. No ordinary death would satisfy him. In this, his life became a cursed one. As much as a swordsman sought to defeat all potential threats, he secretly sought a force greater than himself to finally end it all. This gave the warrior peace and closure; an alternative to slowly watching his flame go out. Cloud found it both tragic and… beautiful. It seemed appropriate a swordsman would want the steel kiss of another fighter.

But what of the victor's own fate? Cloud often wondered about this question. Surely, the same forces that drove the first swordsman toward self-destruction might also consume the man who bested him. No _ordinary death_ would satisfy him either.

His mother had agreed when he pressed this question on her a long time ago. She'd explained the _Warrior_ had to die so that the _Man_ might live and avoid a similar fate. Man and Warrior could not co-exist together for long. To attempt such a path led to either madness or discontent. One had to die. In forsaking the sword, the fighter lived out the rest of his days among mortal men. He'd take on a wife, raise some children, and quietly wither away as an old man in his warm bed. Only the dreams of his Warrior life would accompany him into the Lifestream.

To Cloud, this came as a boring and deceitful existence. To soar among the birds as an immortal warrior, only to descend into a world of mediocrity? It didn't sit right with him. His mother was familiar with this descent into normalcy herself. In her youth, Mrs. Strife was an excellent swordsman. She held a blade and took down sport twice her size with all the quickness and efficiency of a skilled warrior. She remained the best hunter in Nibelheim. And while Mrs. Strife never spoke of her grand adventures or the people she fought alongside with during her youth, including the man she loved, her wind-licked hair and piercing blue eyes told Cloud enough.

She had once soared as an immortal Warrior.

But Mrs. Strife had forsaken the blade. To raise a boy in the rural country side on her own, she had let the Warrior die and took on the role of _Mother_. Cloud knew his mother loved him. And he knew Mrs. Strife harbored no regrets, let alone, any ill will toward the child that prompted her to make such a difficult decision. Still. As a boy Cloud remembered the dim light in his mother's eyes. During cold bitter nights he had often found Mrs. Strife by the window. She always peered outside with one hand to the glass, as if looking for something or someone out there.

Her former self?

That Mrs. Strife became the black sheep of Nibelheim due to her unruly past annoyed Cloud to no end. His mother had given up the sword to live an average life. She'd taken great measures to assure everyone she was not a danger to anyone and only wanted to raise her boy in peace. The townspeople did not give her this peace. Their faces constantly reflected fear and concern. Even when Mrs. Strife regularly drove back the wolves during winter time, the people still looked at her with disdain.

It made Cloud sick to his stomach. A part of him resented his mother. He hated her, hated her for wanting to _fit in_. Cloud vowed he would not let the same thing happen to him. He would rather die by the sword than live out the rest of his days pretending to be someone he was not.

His blue eyes intense, Cloud hit the dummy one more time. It wobbled violently.

"So I came up with a brilliant theory, Cloud," a male's voice abruptly spoke. It came from behind a hung bed sheet where the music originated. "I've concluded this whole fascination with swords in Shinra Inc. has a lot to do with a deeply embedded fascination toward cocks."

In the middle of a lunge, Cloud nearly tripped on his feet and missed his target. He growled but eventually reclaimed his footing.

"Why else would a Tsviet like Weiss, a man capable of killing anyone with just _one_ katana, bother man-handling two blades at the same time?" the voice continued, "It's because he's desperate to bone two guys at the same time. Sounds legit, right?"

Annoyed, Cloud whirled around. He shoved a large bed sheet aside and glared down at a bare-chested boy wearing sunglasses.

Resting on his back along the rooftop's three-foot-high bricked ledge, Kyle currently typed in his PHS. A folded metal panel lay on his chest. Apparently, he tried to catch a few sun rays for a tan. This, despite the obvious lack of sun down here. Finished texting, Kyle looked up at Cloud.

"I heard a rumor Weiss is in love with a guy. The tabloids say he's been skirt-chasing a long-haired chick, but my sources say it's a guy. Definitely a guy."

"Damn it, Kyle…" Cloud wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. He lowered the music from the stereo nearby. "I told you to shut up while I'm training. I can't concentrate with you yapping your mouth like that."

"Oh, puh-lease. It's not like you had a problem with my mouth the last time I was here." The other blond-haired teen removed his sunglasses. Even as he lay along the roof's ledge with a five-storied fall only an inch away, he didn't appear worried. "You shouldn't frown so much, Cloud. You'll get wrinkles faster that way."

Cloud bit back a response and returned to his training.

Not far away, Ms. Tinker sat on her hind with one ear bent. She cocked her head to one side as she watched her master repeatedly attack the dummy. Her tail wagged. She barked every time Cloud hit the red-marked bull's-eye.

"You're really good with a sword," Kyle complimented and aimed his PHS straight ahead. He took a snapshot of Cloud as he drove the tip of his blade into the dummy with an impressive jumping strike. "I don't understand why you're still training if you're already this good."

"I need to be better," Cloud muttered back.

Kyle produced a low throaty sound. "Sheesh, Cloud, are you always this hard on yourself?"

"It's the simple truth. The swords issued in Shinra are sizably bigger, requiring more strength."

"And you don't think you're strong enough to handle them?"

"I've been built for speed and endurance. Not strength." Cloud said nothing else. He heaved and swung his blade again. Already, he felt his arm muscles strain.

The perfect warrior embodied a fine balance of speed and strength. From the start, Cloud knew he lacked the latter. Even when he had regularly lifted weights and ate double his intake, his slender arms refused to bulk up with muscle. A sharp metabolism, his mother had explained to him once. Mrs. Strife suffered from a similar set-back. Perhaps that's what made her the ideal instructor. Through his mother, Cloud learned to focus on agility, endurance, and speed. He couldn't lift worth shit but he could dodge and wear out his opponent quickly. He'd won many fights that way. The trick for the speed fighter rested in fewer hits, brief movement, and more precision.

But now Cloud required more than this. He could not compete for a spot in the Tsviets with only these abilities to offer. Mrs. Strife had done all that she could to do to offset his weaknesses. However…

"You're worried this isn't enough, aren't you?" the other blond-haired boy asked. It was as if he read Cloud's mind. From the ledge, Kyle sat up and tucked his PHS away. He waited for a response.

Lowering his sword, Cloud blew out a puff of cool air. He couldn't decide on a proper answer and so he settled for a silent shoulder shrug instead.

"Why do you think it isn't enough?" Kyle observed Cloud from a sideways view. "I've seen you train on this roof top every day. This is clearly your strongest asset. Hell, only a few IMs can handle a sword."

"The boys in the city play a different game." Cloud raised his rusty practice sword at eye-level and stared at it. When he noticed the confused look on Kyle's face, he explained in one simple word: "…Materia."

Kyle opened his mouth for a second. Then he nodded his head in understanding.

Materia…

In his attempts at enlisting in Shinra's army, Cloud had witnessed a revolution in sword fighting, something he did not anticipate as someone from a backwater village taught in the old ways. In its extensive research, Shinra had successfully tapped into the secret energies of the planet. It was through this the city boys infused their weapons with _materia_; a solidified orb made of mako energy. Each materia came with its own unique properties. While some harnessed the elemental powers of Gaia, others amplified the abilities to its user. These materia-weapon fusions made the old teachings nearly obsolete. It changed the game. Not only did Cloud feel overwhelmed by this revolution, but he also felt inferior by it. He could not keep up with the city boys.

"I can teach you the basics of materia," offered Kyle with a nod. "I'm real good with balls."

"So I've noticed…"

"Fuck you. I'm serious. I've infused my nunchucks many times. It's not too difficult. I recommend you stick with a lower-leveled orb since you haven't developed the stamina to handle anything higher yet."

"Stamina?"

"In order to _synchronize_ with the Planet, materia drains some of the user's life force," Kyle explained. "It's through this you can freely draw out its powers. You'll wear yourself out the longer you're linked to the Planet though. And if you're not careful you'll end up lobotomized."

"Sounds like fun…"

"Smart-ass. You may think it's a joke, but you need a well-trained durable mind to handle this source of energy. The materia can grow more powerful with continued use, supposedly up to five levels. But I've yet to see anyone raise their materia beyond class-two status, let alone, _master_ it."

Already, Cloud felt challenged by this newfound information. He hadn't read about the potential consequences of materia overuse. The 'Materia-For-Dummies' handbook apparently skipped that chapter. A natural fear developed within Cloud, especially when he pictured himself as a lobotomized victim. Knowing his rotten luck it would happen.

"Relax, it's not too bad," the other boy reassured when he noticed the uneasy look on Cloud's face. "We'll stop by the Materia Store in Wall Market some time. They got cheap ones there; nothing too powerful but good enough for practice."

Above them, a horn blew out loud. Up the long spiraled tracks a train ascended. It caused the building to shake. Ms. Tinker raised her head at the train and howled along with the blaring horn. Other dogs in the distance joined in.

Cloud muttered a curse word. He rubbed a temple with two fingers. Great. An incoming headache. Between Ms. Tinker's howling and talks of lobotomized victims, he couldn't focus anymore. He grew more and more on edge. Kyle must've noticed this because he soon beckoned to him.

"Take a breather, Cloud: you look ready to explode." Still seated on the bricked ledge, Kyle grabbed a bottle of water and towel near his feet. He offered both. "C'mon. I'll give you a back massage."

At first, Cloud hesitated. He wanted to get as much sword practice as he could before work. However, his arms felt as heavy as wet clay and the head throbbed. The sight of the water bottle also made him thirsty. Cloud stuck his sword inside the dummy's stomach and joined his companion for a quick break.

The fatigued boy patted the sweat off with the towel and planted himself on the ground between Kyle's legs. With his back facing Kyle, Cloud took a giant gulp from the water bottle and stared ahead. The other boy sitting above on the bricked ledge bent down to massage his shoulders.

"Damn, you're tensed." Kyle rubbed at the rough muscles with the palms of his hands. "I can probably bend a beam of metal on your shoulders; that's how rigid you are."

"Whatever…" Cloud observed the mountains of trash. His voice sounded distant.

"Something tells me there's a lot on your mind right now, aside from the try-outs."

"What makes you think that?"

"You tend to stare very intensely into space. Kinda like what you're doing right now." Kyle chuckled when Cloud caught himself. "Are you nervous about your date this weekend? Is that it? Just buy the chick flowers. You can't go wrong. You'll watch those panties fall south in no time."

"…It's not that."

Kyle pursed his lips for a moment. Then his eyes softened when a realization hit him. "You're thinking about that promotion again, huh?"

At this, Cloud screwed the water bottle closed. He'd done it a little too tightly. When the silence between them stretched for too long, he softly confessed, "I finally got a way out of this hell hole. But it means abandoning my dream and settling for a mediocre life…"

"Hm, settling for a mediocre life ain't too bad. Granted, it's boring. But you won't have to sell drugs or your body to stay fed. Not many people are that fortunate."

"I know, I know…" Cloud started to tear off the sticky label from the water bottle. "It's just stupid when you think about it though. All we do is eat, sleep, and fuck. We take up a career or hobby to pass the time and make our mark in the world. But in the end it doesn't matter. We're pounds of meat and bone, possessed by a soul, running on borrowed time until we become stardust…"

"There you go again, getting philosophical when you're moody." Kyle shook his head. "C'mon, what did you expect? Of course we seek those things: _we're animals_. With a fucking PHS and vanilla lattes."

"I guess I expected more than…" Cloud stared at the piles of garbage. "…_this._"

"Hey, it could be worse. We could've been born as dogs. Imagine the horror of never being able to jerk yourself or, worse, sniffing everyone's ass all day."

"You already do that though."

Kyle smacked the back of Cloud's head. "You're a jerk sometimes, I swear."

The train above finally passed and Ms. Tinker stopped howling. She wandered about the roof, sniffing for food. As the hung bed sheets swayed against a breeze, Cloud felt at peace. He leaned back and nestled deeper between Kyle's legs. His shoulder brushed against a budge but he spoke nothing of it.

Cloud softly sighed when two thumbs rubbed along his lower back neck. He murmured, "You know, I either accept the position for a secured future and die miserable… or I take my chances with a dream and possibly stay down here forever. And die miserable. Interesting choices."

"Pft. I wouldn't say _forever_. Even if you fail the try-outs or don't take the job, it won't mean anything. You're a survivor. You're too stubborn to quit. It's against your nature to _not_ be pig-headed."

Cloud blinked, feeling both offended and flattered by that comment.

"You need to let things happen naturally." Kyle grabbed a handful of Cloud's hair. Gently, he tilted the head back so that Cloud looked up at him. "Stop excessively worrying about the future. Nothing is set. If you screw up, fuck it, no big deal. Mistakes happen. You move on. That's how you live."

The small smile on Kyle's face resonated with the other boy. Cloud nodded back, feeling slightly better. In times like this he tolerated the street rat. Sure, he was _out there_. And at moments he became overwhelming. Cloud wanted to grind his pretty face against concrete. Yet, Kyle was the only one who _got_ him; who read his mind whenever he couldn't vocalize his thoughts. He had been good to him.

As Cloud continued to stare up at Kyle, a random thought crossed his mind. His brows furrowed. "Kyle… you're not upset about my date this Sunday. Are you?"

The question caught Kyle by surprise and there was a pause. His fingers gradually untangled themselves from Cloud's hair and he sat a bit upright. "Huh? W-why do you ask that?"

Cloud abandoned the water bottle and turned around. He tried not to react too awkwardly to the new position and rose on his knees so that he wasn't at eye-level with Kyle's crotch anymore. "I dunno. I thought you might feel off about it, especially when you and I have been…" His voice drifted to silence.

There was another pause, this time longer. "I understand…"

Cloud waited for him to elaborate on that answer.

"Not gonna lie, I wish you didn't go out with other people," Kyle admitted and looked away. "But I can't hold it against you. It'd be greedy of me to expect anything exclusive from you, Cloud. You already know about my other boyfriends. And you're aware of my _thing_ for the black-veiled man."

"Black-veiled man…"

"Hey, don't get any ideas. That dude is _mine_," Kyle said with a hearty laugh. "I called dibs on the black-veiled man. Remember? You and I will have words if I catch you with him. Serious."

Cloud sat quiet. His eyes found a distant spot in the horizon. Letting out air from his mouth, he wondered why he'd held his breath at the mention of the black-veiled man just now.

"We're both exploring the hidden part of ourselves," Kyle resumed. His voice sounded more low and even this time. "Besides, I've always wanted you to loosen up without feeling tied down. You never considered a guy before. I'm glad you're opening up with me." His eyes found Cloud's. "Are you… enjoying it now? Being with a guy, I mean."

His face warmer than before, Cloud rested his head on Kyle's lap and looked up at him. Then he noticed the budge he felt earlier. It ran along Kyle's pant leg, not far from where he rested his face. Cloud stared at it and simply said, "It has its moments."

A broader smile developed across Kyle's lips. He stroked Cloud's cheek with his thumb. "I told you it wasn't that bad. Have you tried that _thing_ yet?"

"Thing?" Cloud thought a moment. Then he made a face. "Oh… _That_. No. It's too gross."

Kyle raised a brow. "If you think it's gross, then how do you think men get it on?"

"I know. It's still gross though. I'm not sticking my finger down there."

"Fine, I'll do it for you," the other man readily offered.

"I'll punch you if you try." Cloud glared up at Kyle.

"Defiant as always, Cloud, but that doesn't change the fact you're tight down there. We need to loosen you up. There's no way I'll have sex with you if you're that tight."

"_Excuse me?_ And what makes you think we're gonna fuck?" Cloud gave off a throaty snort. His eyes drifted down again and stayed on Kyle's bulky shape.

"I suppose it's the fact we've had some hot and steamy moments together. And it would be nice if I was the one to bust your ass's cherry."

"Not interested. The whole idea of getting shoved sounds disgusting." Cloud's hand reached up to idly trace the curled erection with a finger. Up and down he lazily followed along its path. He later commented, "The thing is, the body wants to naturally crap when you shove something up its rear. It's unavoidable. A Shinra medical doctor once checked my prostate and I nearly lost it."

Kyle hissed when Cloud teased the tip of him. "That's why you don't eat big meals prior to sex, silly. Don't be _that_ _guy_."

"What guy?" The country boy raised his head from Kyle's lap, curious now.

"_That guy_." Kyle spread his legs wider and pulled Cloud closer to him. Soon, he elaborated, "One of my past clients was that guy. He screwed and hollered my name like a damn mantra while he shot into me. _Kyle-oh-Kyle! Yes-baby-yes! Fuck-ah-fuck!_ Suddenly, I smelled some serious funk in the air. Lol and behold, I saw gravy running down his thighs. I punched the guy to get him the fuck off me. He flinched back but accidentally slipped-and-slide across the mattress from his mess. Got it all over himself. Ugh."

"Good Gaia…"

"I never saw him again. I trashed the whole bed and swapped rooms. That place reeked for at least three weeks." Kyle shook his head. "_Don't be that guy._"

It was another reason why the thought of anal sex didn't appeal to Cloud. He didn't want to be _that guy_. There were similar stories he'd heard from his coworkers and feared it would happen to him. Of course, there was another reason why Cloud remained reluctant to explore this male-on-male interaction.

"…I heard it really hurts. Like _bad_. You can bleed."

Kyle agreed with a nod. "If you're tight, you will. That's why we need to stretch you a bit. You got lube?"

"Nope. I never needed it." Cloud's fingers strayed upward. Catching the helm of Kyle's pants, he undid the button there. He was in the mood to see it now.

"Not even for jacking off?"

"Just spit," Cloud revealed with a shrug. He pulled down the zipper shortly after. No surprise – Kyle didn't wear underwear today.

"Ugh. You're a prehistoric beast, Cloud." Kyle shook his head in disappointment. "Spit dries too fast and soap makes the skin itch after a while. Buy some lube. It'll be better. I'd suggest buying a toy too, but you may need to use your fingers first."

"No prob. I'll just add that to my list when I go grocery shopping next time." Cloud pretended to jot this information down with an imaginary pen. He soon rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm not interested in this kind of stuff. Hell, I wouldn't know where to begin if I did."

"Are you kidding me? You've been here for three years. Wall Market is loaded with that shit."

"It's not like I go into Wall Market with the intention of buying an ass plug, Kyle…" Cloud finally pulled out the elongated shape. It clumsily flopped out.

For a moment, Cloud observed the one-eyed fat mass between Kyle's legs with mild fascination. He did not touch it though. Rather, his eyes merely took in every detail. The word, _meaty_, came to mind. Kyle's chubby head appeared smooth, moist, and very plump. It reminded Cloud of fresh uncooked Chocobo breast. He wondered if it would slice off as easily under a kitchen knife.

Above, the other teen stayed quiet and carefully pulled out his sacs. Cloud was able to observe all parts of him now.

Their interactions often went like this. They hadn't gone all the way despite Kyle's best efforts. While they'd fondled each other and Kyle had given him the pleasure of his mouth many times, that was as far as they went. Cloud wanted to get used this; he had rejected guys all of his life. In the times he was with Kyle, he spent most of it studying his body, finding the similarities and variations between them. Kyle's girth. His length. His cut. The color of his southbound hair. It became an intense experience for Cloud, especially when he reminded himself again and again… _this was a boy_. This was a boy who exposed his most vulnerable parts to him. Cloud couldn't find anything more vulgar and alluring than that.

Admittedly, the juicy tender tip of Kyle appealed to him. The slit drooled with a nice blushed shade. There emerged a primal hunger to shove that meaty cock straight into his mouth. To taste it. To feel it squirm against his tongue. Cloud hadn't tried that before. The act alone would shame and liberate him. It practically beckoned back to his terrible, childhood days when he obsessively sucked on his thumb.

It took all of his mother's power to stop him. She slapped his wrist. Taped his thumbs. Sent him to bed without supper. Anything to make him stop sucking on his thumb. Cloud grew out of that habit by the age of eight. He hadn't sucked on his thumb since. Still, remnants of that odd behavior did creep up on him now and then. He regularly chewed on his nails and sucked his lower lip during anxious moments. Nibbling the tip of a pen helped pass the time whenever he got bored. And while Cloud enjoyed having his cock sucked on, he found equal satisfaction from simply watching the act performed on him.

That another boy offered him an opportunity to explore an oral fixation from his past was not lost on Cloud. It both intrigued and mortified him. With an inaudible sigh, he rested his face on Kyle's lap again. He licked his lips and carefully observed the glistening tip in front of him. Already, his pants felt tighter.

"So even when you were screwing girls you never bothered to visit a sex shop?" the boy above asked.

"No."

"That's kinda… boring." Kyle shuddered. Cloud's mouth was only a hair away from his prick. Each time Cloud breathed it tickled his warm sensitive skin.

"I never needed to visit one," the other boy confessed, "I already have a hard time buying condoms. What makes you think I'll just casually stroll into a sex shop?"

"Wuss. If you're that concerned with entering one, then check out Noppo's place instead."

"What, you mean the Item Shop in Wall Market? But the zombies only sell antique stuff and back-issued magazines." Cloud's eyes stayed on the engorged head. His fingers rose to touch it. Faintly grazing it with a thumb, he rubbed over its sleek surface in small circles.

Kyle breathed out. "You haven't been looking hard enough then. Ever go beyond Noppo's back door? The zombies stash their rarer items there. Not just sex stuff either. Really cool weapons too."

"Huh. And here I thought that door led to the toilet…"

"If you got good wank material to offer, Semusi will let you go back there."

Cloud thought of the times he had visited the Item Shop. He previously purchased his practice sword there. Noppo, this very tall and lanky ghoulish fellow, rarely spoke. Every day he wore the same ragged suit that had once belonged to a deceased groom.

At the Item Shop, Noppo sold various junk he excavated from the Slums' garbage piles. This strange man ran the place with his creepy sidekick, Semusi. The polar opposite of him, Semusi was short, squatty, and talked a lot. He also had a weird cackle that often sent chills down the spine of any man, woman, and child in hearing range. Because the awkward pair was often mistaken for zombies many wondered why they didn't work at the Gold Saucer's Ghost Square. The two fit right in.

The blond-haired boy wasn't sure what to make of Kyle's proposal. Already, Cloud frowned at the idea of purchasing sex-related items, especially from a six-foot tall skeleton that wore a dead man's suit. The Item Shop had all the gloom and doom of a dungeon. And yet, the rare stuff Kyle just mentioned did peak his interest. Cloud wondered if the zombies' collection included stronger swords.

"Cloud…" Kyle's voice reached him again. The sound that came from his lips was low, drawn out, and desperate. Kyle's gaze first fell on Cloud's hand. Then it shifted to his mouth; the same mouth only an inch away from a stiff and very pointed member.

Glancing up, Cloud found a richer rose color across Kyle's cheeks. The eyes burned with want. Cloud could smell the musk of his firm arousal; a dull malty scent. Studying Kyle's cock, he was disappointed by the lack of a notable vein. The image of a budging vein across perfect pale skin had never left Cloud. He had pleasured himself many times to that picture in his head. Still, Kyle's erection was impressive in its own right. It had fully stretched out due to the thumb that continuously teased its miniscule slit.

This had been an intentional action on Cloud's part. His curious nature got the best of him. He'd wanted to know if the same sensitive spots that drove his body hot also affected Kyle. Compare and contrast. The other boy obviously shared similar trigger points since he reacted so strongly to his touches. Cloud felt proud of himself at this moment. Whereas he had always second-guessed himself with a woman, often intimidated by her alien landscape, at least with a boy he knew what the fuck he was doing. He had knowledge. He had control. He had power.

Looking at his thumb now, Cloud noticed a slimy coat of Kyle's juices over its flat side. That terrible age-old habit from his past returned. It prompted the teen to bring the digit up to his lips. Parting them, Cloud did the unthinkable: he sucked on it. A salty bittersweet flavor instantly registered in his mouth.

Above, Kyle rested his hand on Cloud's hair. He breathed through his mouth. Exhilarated. His fingers tugged at the jagged blond locks several times. It was a silent plea but Cloud knew what he wanted. It was written on the other boy's face. Half of Cloud despised the adrenaline rush he gained from this heated exchange. He felt both disgusted and excited by the crudeness of it all. The blood coursed faster through his veins however as he sucked out the essence of Kyle from his thumb. Cloud edged his face closer toward the moist part of Kyle. He eventually removed his thumb. With his head still on the boy's lap, the lips opened wider. He prepared to take it in and fully accept his adoration for cocks.

It was around this time Cloud's PHS beeped loudly in his back pocket. His alarm. It signaled the time he had to catch his train. Nearby, Ms. Tinker grew alert. Her ears rose pointedly and she barked at the high-pitched noise that sounded off.

Kneeled between Kyle's legs, Cloud contemplated for a second. The alarm was a thirty minute warning. There was enough time to suck Kyle off, have his shower, and catch the train. Cloud lightly licked the penis' head once with his tongue. He was still in the mood. He wanted to give Kyle his first ever blow job. The ongoing alarm proved annoying though. Cloud briefly turned away from Kyle to silence it.

Ms. Tinker barked nonstop, meanwhile. She sought to investigate the annoying sound and now stood a few feet away from the boys. Wagging her tail, the anxious dog grew silent a moment later. She raised her nose upward and detected a peculiar scent in the air. Ms. Tinker concluded it was grub because she excitedly joined Cloud at his spot between Kyle's legs. The dog eagerly licked at the bizarre-shaped sausage that dangled there. Instantly, the street rat yelled and leapt up. His reaction was so immediate that he nearly fell off the rooftop's ledge.

"Gah! Shit!" Kyle struggled to regain his balance, his arms flailing everywhere.

Cloud's eyes grew wide in horror. He quickly got to his feet to grab Kyle's hand and pull him back to safety. Even as he did, the dog happily bounced up at Kyle. Cloud glared at her. "No, Ms. Tinker, _no_. Down, girl, down. _No_. _Stop._ Stop licking that! That's not for you!"

Even as Kyle managed to get to solid ground, he struggled to tuck himself back in. Ms. Tinker pawed at his legs. She attempted to taste the yummy treat that bounced up and down. Kyle tried to raise his pants while Ms. Tinker chased after him across the roof and barked. Cloud's face grew pale. He covered his eyes with both hands, feeling embarrassed and sexually deprived.

Perhaps some other time, when his stupid dog wasn't around, they could continue this. Until then, Cloud took this as a sign. He headed inside the building and decided to get ready for work.

* * *

Tonight, Cloud had been rotated to kitchen duty. His yellow Chocobo apron was a ragged mess, coated with grease and sweat. The air grew hotter from the constant fires. Cloud listened to several tracks from his PHS while he flipped a series of patties with a spatula. He smacked on his peppermint gum and wiped his face on the apron. Despite the use of hi-tech gizmos and automated machines, Chocobo Chow still prided itself in the use of human hands to cook its food. Whatever the hell that meant. Everything else was still operated by machines so this gesture proved pointless. Cloud learned not to question company policies anymore though, including the _mysterious pink slime_ they used. He splashed a few grains of salt and pepper on the patties, flipped them, and stepped back as they sizzled loudly.

A vintage-style television hung above the teen's head. Chocobo Chow's new commercial showed on its screen. Cloud lowered the volume of his PHS to listen to it. The advertisement consisted of flashy animations and sound-effects. The overly energetic, no-holds-barred narrator who discussed all the great deals was the same guy who announced the crazy monster trucks in the Turbo-XXX car show.

"_GRAAAAWR! Head to Chocobo Chooooow! Twenty-four Streeeeet! Take the kiddies and save Gil! The food kicks ass! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR!_"

The commercial revealed a clip of yesterday's fight. Cloud stood completely still. Somehow, the digital effects team managed to beef up his Chocobo suit to include six-packed abs, a heart tattoo on his wing, and a red head bandanna. The terrifying image obliterated the random boy Cloud had fought yesterday. Busty bikini-clad women stood sidelined and cheered. Electric guitars wailed loudly in the background until a giant explosion of fire ended the commercial with Chocobo Chow's address on display.

Cloud slowly looked away. Turning up the volume of his music, he pretended he never saw that.

While the meat cooked and another commercial played on TV, Cloud took a sip of water from his container. He actually didn't mind kitchen duty. Without the nuisance of nagging customers, he could do his thing and work on his _fine_ culinary skills. It was something he had desperately avoided back at home. Of course, working the kitchen also gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts.

Cloud's mental wanderings currently strayed to Kyle. Things had gotten intense between them. He wasn't sure how it happened. The floodgates were opened and now he was interested in the same sex. Why was that? Kyle had flirted with him for three years. Nothing came from it. Cloud had never sought a male companion before. Over the past week or so, however, he felt _different_. And admittedly horny.

As the lowly employee thought about the bizarre relationship he shared with his friend-with-benefits, he wondered about the arrangement of two males in general. Traditionally, the one with the poker stuck it inside the one with the hole. That was that. But for two guys? Both had pokers. And both had holes. Did they decide on who did what over a game of _rock-paper-and-scissors_? Or was it an embedded predefined role? Cloud never saw himself as a 'bottom'. Then again, he never stuck anything up his ass to know if he was or not. It was why purchasing butt plugs and similar sex toys baffled him so much.

"_Hey, Cloud!_" Someone beckoned to the troubled teen from behind. It was Wedge.

Cloud hadn't heard him. His ears currently tuned to loud electroacoustic music, he was too busy debating over who stuck their dick inside who – _both?_ He didn't realize someone had entered the kitchen until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Cloud reactively held up his spatula like a weapon. He spun around and fiercely attacked whoever was behind him with it. A few quick whacks and he stopped.

"Sorry, man," Cloud apologized when he realized who it was. He lowered his 'weapon' and removed the ear buds. "You scared me."

"I scared _you?_" Cowering away from Cloud, Wedge shielded his pale face with a hand. He lowered it. His widened eyes stayed on the spatula Cloud gripped. "Sheesh, any time anyone catches you off guard you get on turbo-mode, you know that? Last time you popped someone while dressed as a Chocobo. Now you're hitting people with a spatula. Shit, man, I'd hate to see what you do with a _mop_."

Cloud snorted. He removed the patties before they burned. "What's up? You need something?"

Wedge didn't answer his question right away. Rather, he took a spot by the counter, away from the frying area. In his hand was a boxed Chocobo Chow Children's Happy Meal. He placed it on the wooden space and turned to Cloud.

"You busy?" Wedge finally said.

Cloud slowly chewed his gum with half-slit eyes and a ready spatula still in his hand. What an idiot. _Of course_ he was busy. He'd been slaving in the kitchen his whole shift and smelled of burger and sweat. He still hadn't taken a break due to the influx of customers attracted by yesterday's fight. These were the types of details Cloud wanted to tell the rolly-polly. Instead, he repeated: "Do you need something?"

"Not really. I just wanted to talk for a sec…"

"Over what?"

"Stuff." There was a long pause. Wedge leaned against the counter and scratched a chubby cheek. Finally, he revealed, "Ele' has been acting strange lately. I saw her talking to a guy in a dark suit at the parking lot the other day. I think it was a Turk…"

Cloud developed a funny suspicion over who that was. To Wedge, he only said, "Oh?"

"Yea. He had red hair."

_Reno_. He fucking knew it. Even now, Cloud could still recall that smug look on the Turk's face when they had met at the Diner last Sunday. What an obnoxious guy. While none of it was any of Cloud's business, he did approach Ele' shortly after. He had passed Reno's message onto her. She didn't look too thrilled.

"You think it was a Turk, Cloud? Is Ele' in trouble? Is she…" Wedge's eyes suddenly grew wide. "…going to _sleep with the fishes_?"

Cloud tried not to laugh at Wedge's choice of words. Briefly, he placed the cooked meat on the tray of a foot-tall robot. It beeped once after the tray was full and wheeled away to the prep station. As the teen laid out a new set of patties on the grill, he looked back at Wedge. "There's nothing to worry about. If the Turks were gonna whack her they wouldn't do it at Chocobo Chow. They got more taste than that."

Cloud said nothing else. However, he already knew from Kyle what was going on.

The Turks wanted to recruit Ele'. It made sense. She had the credentials. And her family was affiliated with Shinra. Not only did her father serve in the company, but her sister as well. She was a Turk who went by the codename _Gun_. Go figure, Cloud thought with a smirk – he couldn't _possibly_ imagine what type of weapon she used. That aside, he understood why Ele' wanted none of this.

She'd mentioned to him before that she craved to forge her own path. Her transfer to Chocobo Chow from the Slums' bar, which catered to the Turks, was her way of putting distance. The defiant girl had no intentions of fulfilling her father's expectations or following in her big sister's steps. She wanted to defy fate. Cloud could relate to that.

"I saw another Turk not long ago," Wedge mentioned but frowned a second later. "Well. Maybe it was just a businessman. I dunno. He had weird eyes…"

"Don't worry about this so much," Cloud suggested. "Ele' is a big girl. She can handle herself."

"Yeah, you're right." Wedge nodded. Then he stared at Cloud. "By the way, I heard a funny rumor. I heard _you_ got offered a promotion not long ago."

Cloud looked at Wedge. Then he confirmed it with a nod. "Assistant manager position."

"Holy shit. _For real?_" Wedge approached Cloud and slapped his arm with a laugh. "Congrats, man!"

"Thanks…"

"Why didn't you say something? This is _huge_. We should totally get together to celebrate this."

Cloud's gaze fell to the sizzling patties. "I haven't accepted though…"

Wedge opened his mouth, ready to ask 'why', but pursed his lips when he connected the dots. "The Tsviets… you want to still join them. Don't you?" Softly, he asked, "What are you gonna do?"

Cloud shrugged his shoulders. He sprinkled salt over the patties. "Mr. Mukki told me to think on it."

"If anyone deserves this promotion, it's you. Of everyone here, you're the only one working your ass off, trying to make something happen. You could benefit from a job like this, you know? I get that you still want to join the Tsviets and all… But. Well. You _should_ think on it."

"Yeah…" Cloud licked his dried lips. "Maybe working for a Chocobo my entire life is all I'm good for…"

Noticing the sour look on his face, Wedge placed a hand on Cloud's shoulders. He smiled. "You know what? Why don't you take a break? I don't think you've had one. I'll cover for you."

"You will?"

"Yep. Go on, man. You look like you need one."

Cloud nodded a 'thanks'. Taking off his apron, he passed it onto Wedge. The fatigued boy stretched his arms and headed for the break room. Wedge stopped him before he reached the door though.

"Oh, hold up! Wait! I almost forgot…" The big boy grabbed the Chocobo Chow Children's Happy Meal from the counter and offered it to him. "Here you go."

Cloud cocked a brow and snickered at it. "A kid's meal? Er, no thanks. I brought my own food."

"Jerk. It's not for you. It's for the kid."

"Kid?"

"Yea, the kid. The schoolboy."

"_Schoolboy?_"

"Er, I _think_ it's a boy. Dunno, to be honest. Looks too pretty to be a boy. Might be a girl? But anyway! I was gonna give him this after talking to you. But since you're going on break, you can do it yourself." Wedge beamed and added, "I made sure to give him a super cool toy!"

Baffled, Cloud made a half-hearted hand gesture toward the Happy Meal. "Why would I give a schoolboy I don't know this? Go ahead and give it to him yourself, Wedge. I'll be at the break room."

Wedge grabbed Cloud by the arm before he walked away again. He blinked repeatedly. "Wait, you don't know him? He told me he knew you. You were gonna meet up together, he said."

"Meet up together?" Cloud removed Wedge's hand. "I don't know any schoolboys. What's he look like?"

"It's kinda hard to forget _his_ face." Wedge snorted out loud. When he noticed the puzzled look on Cloud, he described, "Strange green eyes. Silver hair. You _totally_ can't miss that."

A schoolboy with strange green eyes and silver hair? Cloud fell silent. A faint memory touched the surface of his consciousness. He stared at Wedge. "Where is he?"

"He's outside in the playground. The kid's been out there a long time and won't come in despite the chilly weather. Ele' thought he was a runaway, so I talked to him just a few minutes ago. He wouldn't tell me his name. But the schoolboy said he came to see you for a _meeting of sorts_. Heh. Weird kid."

His curiosity at its peak, Cloud headed out of the kitchen without another word. Wedge followed.

They entered the main dining area of the restaurant. The space was flooded with hungry customers and screaming children. Since the viral video, Chocobo Chow had become a chaotic affair throughout the work days. Mr. Mukki recently hired a lot of part-timers to handle the big numbers.

Cloud squeezed through two people and gazed at the direction of the playpen. Not many people were outside. It was dark and the temperatures were frigid cold. Nevertheless, Cloud spotted a child sitting by himself on a swing. A well-fitted schoolboy uniform covered his lithe body. Ruby plush lips swallowed a green lollipop. His wavy silvery hair shined under the glimmer of the moonlight. _A perfect celestial being_, Cloud thought. Too holy, too pure, and too pretty. He had no right to exist in this realm.

"You know him, right?" Wedge asked from behind.

Lips were parted but no sound came from Cloud. His mind was a mass of cluttered thoughts. It felt like bits of a shattered fantasy, one that remained clouded by his reality. Or perhaps it was a moment of déjà vu. Cloud couldn't tell. For some reason, he thought about his birthday celebration last weekend.

The club. The people. The hot air. The color of blue had splashed everywhere that night. And yet, Cloud mentally pictured a black-shrouded figure in that sea of ultramarine. The veiled creature had stood in the middle of a crowd, completely still. Searching. Staring. Waiting. For someone.

_Do I strike you as _strange_?_

Cloud's heart raced faster. Somewhere in the background Wedge must've asked him a question – _was he all right_ – but Cloud didn't answer back. His focus stayed on the boy outside the restaurant. Bright green eyes slowly looked up. Possessing the face of an angel, the child observed Cloud with a long and unrelenting stare. He didn't look away. Those large green eyes… they somehow violated the teenager. Seared into him. Cloud swore they'd met before.

"What's that smell?" Wedge suddenly asked. He sniffed the air. "It smells like something is burning…"

Cloud smelled it too. It brought him out of his trance. Only a moment passed before he noticed the streak of smoke coming from the direction they had come from. He frowned. "That's the patties, idiot. You're supposed to be checking on them. Go back in the kitchen before we burn the place down."

A few Clean-Up units nearby buzzed a fire-hazard alarm. Wedge scurried off. Cloud sighed and shook his head. Then he returned his attentions to the schoolboy outside. With the Chocobo Chow Children's Happy Meal in hand, he headed toward the double set of doors that led out to the playground.


	15. Despair

**Author's Note:** _I'm a fan of Rumpelstiltskin. I don't think anyone would guess Sephiroth's name either if they were required to know it._

* * *

CHAPTER 14: Despair

Time seemed to crawl to a halt. Inside the restaurant, Cloud ignored the ongoing chaos that surrounded him in Chocobo Chow's dining area. The screaming brats, the smoke alarm that soon set off, and the upset customers that demanded their food… none of that mattered. He continued to look out the glassed wall that overlooked the children's playpen. It remained largely desolate, save for a silver-haired boy sitting by himself at the swing set. The more Cloud stared at this child, the more memories of his birthday night flooded back to him. Tiny details emerged along with a chain of events. He remembered…

After passing out, he saw this same boy sitting alone at a bus stop. Some creepy old pervert had arrived and joined him. Cloud had intervened when things got out of hand. A fight broke out. Two men. Blood. Glass. That was how he had ended up with cuts and bruises on the morning after, Cloud realized. As he dived further into this memory, though, he recalled the aftermath. He had rode off on a motorcycle with a brunette-haired young man who had starry blue eyes. He was a… _Host_.

His curiosity at its peak, Cloud finally passed through the glassed doors that led outside.

The chains of the swing quietly squeaked each time the silver-haired boy pushed up and down on his seat. A breeze of cold air cut through the playground and sent tiny bumps across Cloud's skin. Seeing the child at the restaurant tonight, he naturally assumed he came because of the viral video. Everyone else did. But there was something peculiar about this boy. Something different.

Cloud drew closer and closer until the child stopped swinging. Feet covered in glossed-black laced shoes planted themselves on the ground in perfect synch. Bright green eyes stared at Cloud again. As before, they did not waver.

Cloud didn't make any sudden movements. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe. It was as if he had just stepped into a wolf's den. Briefly, he noted the pools of green on the boy. His shining eyes contained slit-shaped pupils, similar to a feline's. Again, that funky moment of déjà vu hit Cloud. He proceeded with caution and took a spot on the empty swing next to the child. A pleasant scent of vanilla lingered in the air.

"Hey. Um. Are you… doing okay, kid?" Cloud slowly asked.

It was the million dollar question. This was the second time he found the child alone. Granted, Chocobo Chow served as a safe haven for lost or runaway children. But Cloud wondered why this particular kid had a bad habit of wandering off by himself, especially during evening hours. Where were his guardians?

The Chocobo Chow employee waited a while for an answer. None came. The child stayed quiet and sucked on his green lollipop. Cloud noticed silver polish on his long fingernails. _Strange little boy_, he thought. He might've mistaken him for a girl if he didn't know any better.

"Did you want to talk to me?" Cloud later pressed again.

No response.

Cloud made a face. He recalled the kid's _other_ annoying habit: his refusal to talk. The possibility this boy was mute did briefly cross his mind though. The child hadn't talked during their last encounter either. But according to Wedge, this schoolboy spoke to him just fine. He had specifically wanted to meet with the blonde. Cloud didn't know what to make of this. He was here now. He came. Yet, this child barely muttered a word since his arrival. Did Wedge hear him right? Was it a miscommunication?

An idea popped in Cloud's head at the thought of Wedge. He glanced at the Happy Meal in his hand. Holding it up, he asked, "Are you hungry? Wedge made this for you. It's got a cool toy inside."

The child briefly looked at the item presented to him. His expression actually changed. The reaction wasn't what Cloud expected.

Whereas other children's eyes lit up and danced with delight at the sight of a Chocobo Chow Children's Happy Meal, he only saw a silvery brow arch up. Plush-warm lips twisted into an uneven single line. The child kept his hands on the swing's chains and did not move to accept the present. If Cloud didn't know any better the schoolboy looked… offended.

Cloud placed the meal on his lap and mumbled, "Not a fan of our stuff, huh…"

The child blankly stared back. Cloud recognized that look on his face: it was the exact same look he gave whenever someone asked him a stupid question.

Cloud softly sighed to himself. He was at a total lost now. For a while, the two of them sat side-by-side. In silence. They listened to the non-stop chatter inside the restaurant and cars zipping by across city streets. A plane flew overhead. Lightly moving in his swing, Cloud wondered why the child had come. The boy didn't talk to him; didn't say his name. There wasn't a point to their meeting if all they did was sit next to each other without a word.

Staring at the Happy Meal on his lap, Cloud eventually opened it. He was bored. And hungry. This was supposed to be his _break_. And yet here he sat…

Cloud spent a few moments chewing on the small-sized burger and fries that came with it. It wasn't too bad. There was enough salt and pepper to give it a kick. As he ate, though, Cloud became self-aware of himself. He had to look away from the child. Even when they didn't speak to each other, the schoolboy still watched him. Every bite, swallow, and lips licked had been carefully observed. Those bright green glowing eyes never left him.

Cloud suddenly felt like an organism stuck under the lens of a microscope. The child was only ten-years-old, maybe less than that. But his presence loomed large over him. It became overbearing. The frigid cold air could not cool the intense warmth that took over Cloud's face.

When the teenager finally finished his meal, a mild moment of curiosity prompted him to check out the 'super cool toy' Wedge had stuck inside. Cloud discovered a plastic-wrapped sky-blue ring. Blue. The color reminded him of his mother's eyes. And his. Cloud removed the wrapping and pressed down on the crystal. A large image of the solar system projected from it. The universe within the palm of his hands… Neat. Chocobo Chow's food may have tasted mediocre, but at least the toys were cool.

Cloud held the ring in his hand and decided to keep it for himself. He enjoyed nerdy stuff like this. Right as he was about to put the ring on his pinky, however, the silver-haired child next to him suddenly reached out and snatched it from him. He slipped the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand.

It belonged to him now.

First his Chocobo Chow badge. Now his ring. Cloud narrowed his eyes at the schoolboy. "You know, you have a nasty habit of taking things away."

"I only take what is rightfully mine," came a prompt reply.

Cloud instantly looked at the child next to him. His mouth opened halfway but he quickly shut it again. At first, he doubted his ears. Then he realized the boy had actually talked. He… _talked._

Cloud became quiet. He hadn't expected a response from this boy, let alone, a reply like that. The sudden surprise intrigued him on many levels. For someone his tender age, the voice and words that came out of the schoolboy's mouth possessed all the authority and confidence of an adult's. Each syllable had been pronounced with utmost care.

"So you can talk…" Cloud declared quietly, more to himself than to the boy.

Bright green eyes roamed over his face. The child's tiny wet tongue slowly flicked out and ran along the flat side of his lollipop.

"What's your name?" Cloud asked.

The green-eyed child did not answer. He stuffed the lollipop deeper between his blush-red lips.

"Why did you come here?" Cloud persisted. He looked away, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

The schoolboy refused to meet his inquiry with a vocal answer. Instead, he reached into his jacket's chest pocket. Removing a black card, he passed it to his companion.

Curious, Cloud accepted it. The business card was mat black with round corners. On one side, there was a word in black embossed letters: _LOVELESS_. Cloud flipped the card over. A line with seemingly random numbers and letters appeared there. It looked like a website. However, the extension ended in 'shallot'. That extension, alone, indicated it could only be accessed by specialized software. Cloud knew what this meant. LOVELESS existed inside the online's Hidden Gate.

"Visit that website," the schoolboy spoke again, his words clear and precise. To the point.

"Why?" Cloud inquired. He had checked the Hidden Gate on various occasions, perhaps more than he should have. It was a dark and often forbidden part of the cyber world. Cloud waited for an explanation. When none came, he repeated his question more forcefully, "_Why?_"

"Because," the child countered back at last.

"Because…?"

The child removed the lollipop from his mouth and leaned slightly toward him. His pale face glowed against the moonlight. In a soft and low voice, he revealed, "Because of your eyes, boy."

"My eyes…" The teen's brows drew low. He felt lost. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything."

Cloud readjusted himself in his swing, feeling uncomfortable. And confused. "I-I don't understand."

"Your eyes spoke to me on the night we met at the club," the child explained.

"At the club? But… we never met at the club." Cloud bit the tip of his tongue immediately after he said that. His shaky unreliable memory insisted they only saw each other at a bus stop. His intuition, on the other hand, argued otherwise. Unsure of himself anymore, Cloud whispered later, "…_Or did we?_"

A devilish smile shaped across the boy's mouth, one that was subtle and crooked. As if to conceal it, he rubbed the flat surface of his lollipop against his bottom lip. There was a glint in his green eyes now.

Cloud became quiet. Sitting beside this boy, a strong air of familiarity grew from him. Cloud tried to recall the other events that had happened during his birthday celebration. As before, it was cluttered information. Brief spells of words, images, scents, and tastes. Cloud did recall one detail though, something he saw when he had wandered the streets with his companions that night. A shadow baby.

Cloud's eyes found the boy again. "You were the shadow that kept following me after I left the club."

A small, nearly inaudible noise escaped the boy's mouth. It sounded like a snicker.

"Something tells me you didn't appear at the bus stop by coincidence either. You were there. For me."

"I confess, boy," the child began and gracefully crossed his legs, "I thought if I saw you one last time it would have ended my curiosity with you. Alas, a glimpse of your true self during the altercation that night revealed the source of my fascination. A pleasant revelation, that. I knew we had to meet again."

Cloud blinked. Wedge was right about this kid: he _was_ weird. No boy his age talked like that. Cloud's eyes drifted to the ground. Later, he muttered, "My true self? I… don't know what you mean by that."

That intense spark in the boy's eyes returned; a blaze of green. It was followed by a small curve at the corner of his mouth. Tipping his head slightly to one side, the smile bordered between amused and jest. The child didn't bother explaining himself. He didn't have to. Cloud understood what he meant, even as he remained in a state of denial. It troubled him to see how perceptive the schoolboy was with strangers. He saw through him like glass.

"I'm here because of what I saw in you that night," the child continued and ran his tongue across the lollipop. "It's why I searched for you. It's why I want you to visit that website."

Cloud recalled the time the schoolboy had ripped off his badge. He didn't understand why at the time but it made sense now. His last name was stenciled on it. That would've provided enough information on his whereabouts. But still. There were ten Chocobo Chow locations scattered across Midgar City, all with at least twenty stationed employees. This boy must've investigated every damn one of them.

Cloud realized now it wasn't the viral video that brought him here. It was him.

The teen's voice was nothing more than a whisper when he said, "But I… don't even know you."

"I know enough about _you_." The boy uncrossed his legs and rose from his swing. With his lollipop placed between two silver-polished fingers, he stood in front of Cloud. He gazed down at him with a soft light in his strange eyes. "I can make you forget your sadness, boy. I can replace it with something else."

"My sadness…" Cloud swallowed and realized his mouth had gone dry. "What makes you think I'm sad?"

"Your eyes," the child whispered back without hesitation. As if it was an obvious answer. He reached out and tenderly touched a spike of Cloud's platinum-gold locks. "Like I said, your eyes reveal a lot to me."

Absently, the boy intertwined two fingers with a string of Cloud's hair. He gently twirled and pulled on it. Cloud sat completely still. He kept his eyes low, away from the boy. This small intimate act felt too similar to the times Kyle tugged his hair during a passionate make-out session. Cloud could feel glowing jade eyes on him. He refused to look up, fearful of what the boy might find in them.

Those damn eyes…

The thought of eyes eventually brought up the faces of three blue-eyed Hosts for Cloud. Their stares had cast a brilliant light of blue and burned through the darkness. Cloud mentally saw their tall figures in his head. _A holy trinity_, he considered thoughtfully. Cloud glanced at the LOVELESS business card in his hand. Ele's words at the club echoed to him as he studied it: _They're boys hired for love._

Cloud finally understood the nature of this odd meeting. This revelation both shocked and baffled him.

"You're a Host," Cloud realized out loud. He finally looked up and saw the boy confirm this with a nod. A bit alarmed, he removed the hand that touched his hair. "But you're just _a kid_."

At this, the young Host laughed and stepped back. His lively sound was neither too high nor too low. The child stuck the lollipop back inside his mouth. Sucking on it again, he murmured, "You'd be surprised by my age, boy. I would've seen you in my actual form tonight. However, it's difficult prowling these streets without attracting unwanted attention. Hardly anyone thinks twice about a schoolboy though."

There he went again, speaking in a way Cloud could not understand. He didn't know which was worse: the boy's deafening silence whenever he refused to talk. Or the enigmatic words he spewed whenever he did speak. Cloud scoffed for a moment. "I'm sorry, but… _your actual form?_"

"It's complicated."

Cloud halfway rose from his seat, ready to leave. "Listen. It was nice meeting you. But I'm not interested in a Host, let alone, one your age. You should head home, kid. Your folks are likely missing you and…"

"You hate this place," the child cut him off, temporarily removing the lollipop from his mouth. "There's no need to see your eyes to know how much you hate serving dullards every day, boy. Mopping those floors. Scrubbing filth from toilets. Making sure everything stays immaculate so that the process can repeat itself and you can ask your darling customers an essential question: _would you like fries with that?_ A pinnacle moment in your life, no doubt. It is no wonder why you hide that rural accent of yours. Nibel Area, is it? Hah, you would not want anyone to mistake you for some backwater country-boy. Would you?"

Cloud's hands gripped the chain of his swing. He avoided eye contact and found himself slowly sitting back in his seat. Unbalanced. Stunned. The silver-haired child, meanwhile, turned away. He stared into the dining area of the restaurant. His eerie eyes fell on a family of three: a boy, father, and grandfather.

"Time flashes by," the boy remarked softly. "Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Before you know it, you change from seven to seventeen to seventy. That beautiful face of yours shrivels away like a prune while the body rots. Loss of eyesight here. Trembling hands there. You might remember your name. You might even ask yourself:_ will someone remember me? Have I left behind a worthwhile legacy?_ And then it dawns on you. You're maggot food to the Planet. You're as relevant as dirt under toenails is." His jade eyes shined and strayed back to Cloud. He licked at his sugary treat with a look of innocence. "Pathetic. Isn't it? And to think, that delightful Happy Meal on your lap will be the only memory left of you."

Inside his mouth, Cloud tasted copper. The lowly Chocobo Chow employee had chewed the insides of his lips a little too deeply. His mouth stung. Meanwhile, the knuckles were white. He'd clutched the metal chains of his swing so tightly that the blood no longer reached his fingers. They felt numb.

This Host… He looked so young and fragile. So pure and beautiful. Like an angel. Yet, his words sliced through Cloud like a razor. It was as if this Host had entered his subconscious and yanked out every fear, worry, and question that plagued him each night. He even knew of his origins. Nibel Area. Cloud did not tell anyone of his hometown. Nor did his accent have a prominent sound. If it existed, it was a subtle one. Either this Host checked his profile or he had the hearing senses of a canine.

With eyes cast down, Cloud took a deep swallow. The food he'd eaten moments ago did not agree with him now. He felt sick.

"I do not come to just anyone, boy," the child confessed and took a step forward. "The type of _love_ I offer is not… typical. And unlike other Hosts, my services are reserved only to those I either deem worthy or fulfill a personal curiosity of mine. In most of the cases, it's the latter. The basic prerequisite remains though. All of my clients must possess a particular emotion I fancy."

Cloud slowly raised his head. He forced his eyes to meet the boy's. His heart pounded as he quietly asked, "And what emotion would that be?"

The scent of vanilla drifted strongly in the air as the silver-haired boy bent forward and drew dangerously close to Cloud. Their lips were only inches apart. A sweet and gentle smile shaped itself across the child's lips again. With a single breath, he whispered: "…_Despair_."

The weather outside became chillier. While the bright moon hid itself behind a gush of dark clouds, orbs of mako energy brightly glowed in the sky. A baby cried somewhere inside the restaurant and a car honked at the adjacent street. The world existed as it always did. It moved forward. But for Cloud, at this specific spot, time stood still.

Rooted to his chained seat, the blond-haired teen sat in total silence. Some absurd part of him wanted to laugh. Irony was funny sometimes. This child had entered his life right when he stood in the middle of quicksand and debated over his next actions. Cloud realized now why the boy's previous words rattled him: he thought the same damn thing. This child exposed him for the mindless puppet he'd become in Midgar City. His Chocobo Chow uniform and hours serving complete strangers like a slave… he was no different from the next employee who would slip on this uniform after he rotted away into oblivion.

There'd been restless nights Cloud spent thinking about his reality. Was it even a reality? Or did the Dreamers awaken when they slept? On certain mornings, Cloud counted the cracks on his apartment's ceilings. He did that until he felt alive enough to get up. On his way to work, he sometimes wished he brought along his sword and destroyed everything in his path.

Cloud understood now why his eyes meant _everything_ to the boy. In them, the child saw what he tried to hide from the world. The Host saw his despair. It was the source of his frustrations. His rage. His self-loathe. His _everything_.

"Are you scared, boy?" the child asked; his plushy soft lips still close to his.

Cloud nearly lost himself in those eyes. He watched the pupils turn slimmer, nearly disappearing in green. Everything about this boy freaked him out. His beautiful and alluring presence made Cloud uncomfortable for all the wrong-right reasons. But as to whether he was afraid of him?

Cloud thought back on a particular dark winter night. Unyielding ice-blue eyes had stabbed into his with the promise of despair. In his deepest nightmares, Cloud could still hear the wolf's howl. He could still see the shadow of his mother in the far distance as the blizzard raged on. Blood was spilt that night. Cloud's heart paced faster at the memory of it. Yes. He'd been afraid then. Despair had nearly taken over him. Even so, he had raised his blade and met the eyes of the Fenrir. A swordsman did not yield.

Thinking back on that event and what had happened afterward, Cloud remembered why he hadn't given into his despair just yet. Like Kyle had mentioned earlier, he was too stubborn to quit. Three years working in a miserable job he loathed and he still fucking came to work on time.

"No. I'm not afraid," Cloud answered back at last. Quiet. Calm. Resolved.

The smile on the child's face gradually grew. His green eyes fiercely glowed. "Just as I thought. Despair reeks from you, boy, but there is something else that burns in those extraordinary blue eyes of yours."

The Host reached out with a hand and carefully set a strand of hair away from Cloud's left eye. The teenager exhaled slowly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. He had trouble working his mouth.

"Who _are_ you?" Cloud finally demanded; his voice small.

"I am the emanations of the Infinite."

That answer stunned Cloud. He stared with unblinking eyes and realized… this child was not a child.

The silver-haired Host eventually pulled away from their close proximity. He stood at full height and revealed, "My name is the final prerequisite. If it is enlightenment you desire then know my name. Solve my riddle. I've already opened the path to the answer but it will not stay open for long."

From his spot, Cloud looked up at the Host. Curious. He wondered what he meant by that last part.

"You will not see me again after this night. The next decision has to be yours to make. That is my gift to you: _freedom_. Choice. You can choose to soar with me to the Promised Land. Or you can choose to exist as you are now until the day you become dust for the Planet. Think carefully on this. There will be no going back. My love is also not without its consequences, Strife."

_Strife_. It was the first time the Host addressed him by his name. Cloud could hear the sound of his heart pound through both ears.

"I suspect you won't bore me like the others have. I look forward to seeing the path you choose for yourself." The silver-haired Host stuck the lollipop back inside his mouth. There was a twisted smile on his face. He courteously bowed; his movement fluid and elegant. Then he walked out of the playpen and sang a familiar song in his innocent childlike voice: "_Chocobo, Chocobo. Come here, lovely Chocobo. Sit with me by my warm bright fire. I'll wrap my arms around you and kiss you higher…_"

For a moment, Cloud did not react. He stayed on the swing and watched this beautiful yet bizarre Host leave. The child's lovely voice still carried as he sang and headed down a long road. Cloud held his breath. A strange feeling of absence enveloped him. Watching the boy's figure get smaller and smaller, a part of him was tempted to walk after him. He almost felt… _incomplete_. The teen slowly rose from his seat. He took a few steps forward but stopped. The Host faded away into the landscape of the sky city.

Cloud's shoulders sagged. Disappointed. The child was gone. Their meeting had come to an end. So did his break. It was time to return to his suspended reality. Learning to breathe again, the teen made his way to the glassed-door entry. A deep raspy voice stopped him midway.

"_I figured you would be his next potential client, Cloud Strife. And I was right._"

Cloud reactively flinched at the unfamiliar voice that addressed him. He spun on his heels and caught the outline of a tall figure. It leaned against a giant Chocobo statue that overlooked the playpen. From its shadows, a pair of crimson-colored eyes gleamed back at Cloud. The gentleman did not move from his spot. Instead, he stood there and lit a cigarette with a lighter. The flame briefly cast over his pale features and revealed a man in a dark suit; his arm in a sling.

"Vincent Valentine…" Cloud recognized at last.

The Turk snapped his lighter shut. With the fire out, he was hidden in shadow again. Only the tip of his cigarette and crimson eyes blazed through the darkness. His voice reached Cloud. "I've been keeping an eye on you, Strife. You're hard to miss. I can see why you caught his eye. Not too bright though."

Frowning, Cloud took a step forward to get a better look at Valentine. Having a Shinra operative a few feet away was unnerving enough. But the fact he knew his full name and had been watching him? That unsettled Cloud. He suddenly thought about Wedge's choice of words earlier – _sleep with the fishes_ – and didn't think they were funny anymore.

"Why are you here?" Cloud inquired carefully. "And why are you spying on me?"

Valentine blew out a puff of smoke from his mouth and stood there like a statue himself. A cool chilly breeze blew through. Strands of his smooth jet-black hair swayed against the wind. He finally spoke again. "I advise you to stay away from him, Strife. His light is too great; it'll sear right through you. If you follow his path you'll probably end up like the others."

Cloud had heard similar cautionary words spoken to him before. From who, he did not remember. His curiosity bloomed as he took another step forward. "End up like the others…?"

No answer.

Cloud scoffed; not surprised. Knowing Shinra's shady operative, it was on a need-to-know basis and he obviously did not need to know. This frustrated the teen, however. While Cloud recalled Valentine's possible ties with the black-veiled Host, it did not explain why he was here or actively meddled in _his_ private affairs.

"Do yourself a favor: cut the strings before you go too deep," Valentine advised, "Once you're tangled in his web, there's no turning back. He takes what is his. Burn that card and pretend you never met him."

Leaning his weight to one side, Cloud narrowed his eyes at the Turk. He felt annoyed by Valentine's cryptic words. Did anyone talk _normal_ anymore?

Receiving a lecture from the taller man only aggravated Cloud further. He didn't see what the big deal was. Tons of children talked to him. It was a common experience here in Chocobo Chow. So what? Sure, the young Host wasn't like the others. He gave off a strong magnetic aura that intrigued Cloud and made him feel like an alien in his own skin. The teen didn't mind. He, himself, was a strange guy. Strange understood strange. The pretty boy's creepiness didn't put him off.

None of this should've mattered. The way Valentine referred to the silver-haired Host, he made the child sound like fucking Diablos reincarnated.

Glaring at the Turk, Cloud finally said, "I'll decide on what action to take. _Thanks._ Now, if you'll excuse me I got work to do, Suit."

"That child is not what you think he is," Valentine replied as Cloud walked away. "He's far more than what you can possibly imagine. Far greater. And far worse."

Cloud waved him off, too tired and irritated to entertain this nonsense any longer. He still had a long three hours left on his shift. The Chocobo Chow employee headed to the restaurant's glassed doors without a word. Only briefly did he look back to see if the Turk still watched him. Valentine was gone.

* * *

By eleven o'clock, Cloud was home, back at his apartment. Spent and worn out as usual. The journey back to his residence had been an uneventful one, save for the thugs and whores he regularly avoided during his train commute. There thankfully was no creepy soldier running amuck like last night. Lisp had sounded better too when she'd escorted him to his place. Now was the time to put all of today's wild happenings behind him.

Cloud had already taken a shower and brushed his teeth. He'd also secured his residence; even peeked out his door's peephole to make sure the hallway was empty. The sane and logical part of him wanted to sleep the night off. Tomorrow was class, followed by bike lessons with Jessie. He needed a good night's rest. Cloud stayed up, however, his thoughts too wrapped up by a burning question.

While Ms. Tinker slept at her usual spot, the teen sat cross-legged on his bed with the portable computer in front of him. Its screen lit up his face and served as the only light source in the dark apartment. The neighbors were awake too. They banged against the wall behind him and made annoying sounds from the other side. Cloud ignored them and stared at his laptop's screen.

The Hidden Gate. It was an underground cyberspace world that housed the strange, horrific, and illegal. Designed with complete anonymity in mind, this place provided unlimited freedom for those with inner twisted desires. Not everyone was meant to visit the Hidden Gate. Humanity's dark side festered here. Those who entered this domain often left feeling different about themselves. And the world.

The last time Cloud entered it, a live video had featured a woman who suffered from Apotemnophilia. She'd worn nothing but a cheap plastic Moogle mask over her face and lay naked and strapped on a clinical table, her limps sticking out. Another Moogle-masked nude figure stood nearby and had held a handsaw. Throughout the entire procedure, the strapped woman had moaned in ecstasy until she climaxed and passed onto the Lifestream from blood loss. The clinical table was a real mess.

That video had earned over ninety thousand likes.

For Cloud, the controversial vices and positive feedback they received did not surprise him. The Hidden Gate revealed and embraced all of humanity's darker tendencies. His own morbid curiosities and rebellious nature made it easy to relate to the general discontent for social norms and stale reality. Even so, Cloud kept away from the Hidden Gate whenever he could, fearful his toleration for human perversions would dull his senses and make him as apathetic as everyone else. He'd be no different than the people who created those traumatizing videos.

Of course, Cloud knew himself too well. He struggled to care at times. Every day the teen contended with his sick fascinations and pursuits toward the forbidden fruit. It was why he sought information on the city's corpses. And why he remained awake tonight, checking a site he probably should not visit.

The browsing software required to access the Hidden Gate had already been installed from the last time Cloud entered this place. He remained silent on his bed with the laptop in front of him. The Hidden Gate's page itself wasn't anything fancy, just a simple layout with an area to input a website's address and press _Go_. His eyes glanced at the black business card on his keyboard.

_Burn that card_… Valentine's words still echoed in Cloud's head. At first, he considered doing that. It seemed like a waste of time pursuing a silver-haired boy, being led down some rabbit hole. The Host was only a child. And yet the boy's words had stayed with Cloud since their encounter: _And to think, that delightful Happy Meal on your lap will be the only memory left of you. _

This wasn't the legacy Cloud wanted for himself. He wanted more. Even if he wasn't entirely sure what the child could offer him or if he had the power to remove him from his dull reality, a curiosity grew great enough to investigate this newfound path. On the address bar, Cloud typed in the LOVELESS' website. He pushed _Go_.

_you Have awakened  
you are the chosen  
through me Salvation waits  
In you is Hope  
speak my name  
walk and you may pass  
The Path is Opening  
Receive the message  
the End came_

_follow the sequence_

This was the message that greeted Cloud on his arrival to LOVELESS' main page. He frowned. With the way Valentine had hyped up the young Host's bad reputation, Cloud somehow expected more from LOVELESS' website. Only three elements appeared on its midnight-black main page.

Aside from the written passage, there was a single-lined textbox with an 'enter' button and a clock timer that stayed at the '24:00' position. The passage's final words – _follow the sequence_ – were highlighted in blue. It was the only link available on the page. Cloud continued studying the page, hoping to find something he may have overlooked. Either LOVELESS remained under construction or the child had sent him on a wild goose chase.

Exhaling quietly to himself, Cloud typed a few words into the visible textbox. He tried to locate the site's forum section or contact information through it. However, when he clicked on the 'enter' button he received only one response: _incorrect answer_.

Weird.

A few more minutes passed as Cloud looked around again and ultimately decided there was nothing left to do but click on the page's only hyperlink. He pushed on the final words of the passage and was brought to a very similar page. There were notable differences though.

The clock timer now moved. 24:00… 23:59… 23:58… 23:57… 23:56… 23:55… It was a countdown, Cloud realized. He scrolled down the rest of the page and discovered diagrams, bizarre black-and-white photos of places and people, and mathematical equations. There were a total of nine of them. The teen made a face. Math was never his strongest suit. While he could solve a few of the geometric problems presented to him, everything else remained a mystery. Cloud wondered what any of this had to do with the silver-haired boy. And then he remembered his words.

_My name is the final prerequisite. If it is enlightenment you desire then know my name. Solve my riddle. I've already opened the path to the answer but it will not stay open for long._

The website started to make sense for Cloud now. This wasn't LOVELESS' main page: this was the boy's riddle. The textbox Cloud had mistaken for a search feature actually served as the designated spot to submit his answer. Perhaps he would be granted access to LOVELESS' website and meet the boy again if he solved the riddle?

The combined nine images and equations likely revealed hints to the answer. As Cloud observed the timer that continued to countdown, however, he soon understood what the child had meant by 'it will not stay open for long'. The business card had 'opened the path' for Cloud. But now there was less than twenty-four hours to solve the riddle. It was the final challenge, the final prerequisite. Cloud had to find out the name of the silver-haired boy.


	16. The Riddle

**Author's Note:** _Sephiroth's riddle. One passage was inspired by an actual website I visited, a site filled with strange encoded messages. I tried to duplicate that format but this site spat it out. Meh. That aside, please enjoy the chapter, fellow creepers._

* * *

CHAPTER 15: The Riddle

Dark, damped, and chilly, many Slum residents claimed the Library in Sector 6 was a haunted place. Flickering light-bulbs created ominous shadows throughout its long hallways while unstable power generators on the rooftop led to frequent outages. This not only caused an annoyance to library guests trying to read during evening hours, but also made it impossible to use computers – they sucked up too much juice and were easy targets for thieves. As a result, the library's two floors stayed dimly lit throughout operational hours and visitors resorted to power-friendly vintage equipment like microfilm readers and phonographs. An archaic indexed-filing system was located on the bottom floor to track down specific reading material.

With misaligned tiled flooring and paint-peeled walls, the Library was made of brick and stone. Donators and salvagers alike contributed to its humble collection. Like many places in the Slums, the Library reeked of sweet-scenting mold and damped cardboard. Books cluttered the wooden shelves. They were all discarded reading material from the Plate, mostly consisting of outdated editions, banned controversial content, badly-shaped paperbacks, and misprints. Pretty much anything that had been trashed from the sky city found a new home in the Slums' Library. Like the children of the underworld, the Library became a place for the discarded and forgotten.

On the Library's second floor, there were designated rooms for private study, big enough to house at least fifteen people. Each came equipped with tables and a chalkboard. Battery-run lamps served as back-up lightning during power outages. A fake plant often took residence in a corner somewhere – a desperate attempt to liven up the dreary, decayed place.

In Room 22, Cloud sat at the far back corner with his laptop in front of him. Small dust particles floated in the air. That funky aged smell of withered books made him sneeze from time to time. To the boy's left side, a large glass window showed the courtyard and children's playground outside. Cloud could hear kids squeal as they played. When the scraping sounds of skateboards reached his ears, he felt a serious need to work on his flip trips. Instead, he slumped back in his seat, bored out of his mind.

Nine other people sat with him in Room 22. Cloud's classmates were older than him. All had families, some even grandchildren. Those who attended class for their equivalency degree were either immigrants or sought a job on the Plate. Being the only youth present, Cloud felt awkward and out of place. Guys his age were busy getting laid or earning quick Gil on the streets. And yet here he was…

Ahead, Cloud's instructor stood in front of the chalkboard. Mr. Bugenhagen. A dim light cast over his wrinkled, aged shape as he wrote a word on the chalkboard and underlined it.

Balding at the top, Mr. Bugenhagen's white hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail by a feather. His slightly hunched body was covered in a blue-and-yellow woven robe. From what Cloud recalled, Mr. Bugenhagen hailed from Cosmo Canyon. He smelled of earth and cinnamon incense all the time. Donning round-rimmed spectacles, he was a peculiar man with a long white beard. Every day Mr. Bugenhagen sat cross-legged on a large green ball. He claimed it _helped his back._ Cloud highly suspected the quirky old man simply had too much fun sitting and bouncing on it. Weirdo.

"It is a fact: all life must die," Mr. Bugenhagen announced up ahead. Sitting on his ball, he lightly bounced on it. The word _Lifestream_ had been underlined. Adding more words, he declared, "It is the natural order of the universe to die. But what happens when we do? Where does our consciousness go once the body turns to dust? Ho, ho, ho! It all returns to the source, of course! The spirits of every living creature merges with the Planet. Together, we roam, converge, and divide. That is the _Lifestream_."

Mr. Bugenhagen paused from his lecture when he heard the sounds of someone snoring. He twirled around on his big green ball and located the offending student who slept with his mouth opened.

A few people in the room chuckled, knowing full well the repercussions of sleeping or not paying attention in class. Swiftly, Mr. Bugenhagen reached into his robe and pulled out a yellow orb: a morph materia. It glowed yellow as it fused with his hand. Pointing a finger at his unsuspecting target, the elderly man cast a spell. The spell violently shook the student awake but it was already too late for him.

"_Rippet! Rippet!_" came the sound from the distressed student. Transformed into a frog, his tiny green shape repeatedly jumped up and down on the desk.

The class erupted in laughter.

"Ho, ho, ho! Looking livelier than ever, Mr. Sanders," Mr. Bugenhagen remarked above the ruckus. "And now that I have your _full_ undivided attention, can we continue on with the lecture, mmm?"

"_Rippet! Rippet!_" The frog leapt faster, anxious.

"Ah, jolly good then, ho, ho, ho!" The instructor bounced on his big ball and returned to his chalkboard.

Shaking his head at his newly transformed classmate, Cloud knew Mr. Bugenhagen wouldn't return the student back to his original form until _after_ class. That was the price to pay for being negligent. It could've been worse though. The last time an idiot slept during a lecture, the old man had summoned Titan at the library's court yard. It shook _everyone_ in the building wide awake.

As the laughter in the room died down and the instructor resumed his lesson, Cloud idly chewed on the tip of his pen. Normally, he didn't have a problem paying attention. His instructor was an easy-going guy; well-versed on many subjects and languages. He made learning fun and engaging. But today Cloud couldn't stay focused. He was too distracted by another matter.

Cloud's laptop screen currently displayed the young Host's riddle. A dreadful countdown reminded him of how much time remained: 10:24:05… 10:24:04… 10:24:03… 10:24:02… 10:24:01…

A good chunk of last night had been spent figuring out the boy's name. Cloud still had ten hours left to solve it. Because there was an unlimited number for guesses, he attempted to bypass the clues altogether and input random names into the textbox instead. A process of trial-and-error would lead to quicker results. At least, that's what Cloud thought. How hard could it be to guess a boy's name anyway?

Apparently, very fucking hard.

All the names Cloud typed in yielded the same response: _incorrect answer_. He had visited every _Common and Unusual Names_ website he could find and submitted those names into the textbox. No luck. At some point, out of frustration, Cloud put in whatever popped in his head. _Silver. _Incorrect answer. _Jade. _Incorrect answer. _Host._ Incorrect answer. _Schoolboy. _Incorrect answer. _Cat Boy. _Incorrect answer. _Twerp. _Incorrect answer. _Little Shit. _Incorrect answer. _Fuck You._ Incorrect answer.

Cloud's patience grew thin.

Glaring at his screen now, Cloud wondered if any of this was worth it. He should be paying attention, focused on passing this class. Yet, the boy he met last night occupied his mind along with his terrible daunting words – _And to think, that delightful Happy Meal on your lap will be the only memory left of you._ Cloud nearly bit off the tip of his pen as he scanned through the website's contents again.

A mixture of photographs, drawings, and written passages filled the page, some more bizarre than others. Cloud felt both uneasy and fascinated by it all. It was as if he'd caught a glimpse into the young boy's world, something that teetered between innocent curiosities and morbid impulses. At the core of the child's musings, though, was this strange beast:

'THE SACRED'

|**I**|

|9|

|**J**|O|U|R|N|E|Y|  
|/|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|**N**|O|W|-|T|O|-|T|H|E|-|S|A|C|R|E|D|

|/|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|**M**|O|T|H|E|R|

|/|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|H|E|R|E|-|S|**H**|E|-|W|A|I|T|S|-|F|O|R|-|M|E|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|8|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|**U**|N|D|E|R|-|A|-|B|L|A|N|K|E|T|-|O|F|-|S|T|A|R|S|

|21|2+1|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|T|H|E|-|**P**|R|O|M|I|S|E|D|-|L|A|N|D|-|A|W|A|I|T|S|-|U|S|

|-|-|-|-|-|/|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|O|P|E|N|-|T|H|E|-|D|**O**|O|R|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|/|-|-|-|

|T|O|-|T|H|E|-|W|O|M|B|-|O|F|-|A|L|L-|C|R|E|A|**T**|I|O|N|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|/|-|-|-|-|

Cloud didn't know what to make of _The Sacred_. It sounded too deep to come from a child. A few letters were typed in bold with a slash mark underneath them. Some contained numbers below them as well. Those numbers likely had something to do with the boy's riddle.

Scrolling down the page, Cloud discovered a photograph entitled,_ Blessed Mother of Space Gods._ It was taken at a run-down building with graffiti-riddled walls and no furniture. Sunlight filtered into the dark space from a cracked window. The subject of the photo was a nude woman with pale illuminating skin – the only immaculate presence in the room.

She wore five-inch-high silver platform heels and a white choker around her neck with a strange ten-circled symbol on it. Surrounded by disheveled bed sheets, she lay on a mattress that had been dumped on the filthy floor. The Blessed Mother leaned to one side; her long silvery hair draped over the right shoulder. A plumped nipple exposed a faint shade of blush.

Of everything on the site, this holy yet risqué figure caught Cloud's attention the most. Not only did this woman have the body of a fuckable Goddess... she also had no face. Digitally removed, it was nothing more than a montage of creepy green eyes. All seven stared at the camera. For Cloud, this surreal detail screwed with his senses – he couldn't decide whether to be turned _on_ or _off_ by the Blessed Mother.

With a freakishly long torso and legs, Cloud knew the woman was of ridiculous height, likely over six-feet-tall. Those glitzy platform heels added more inches. Her flat stomach, meanwhile, creased as she leaned to one side with one elongated leg bent and raised. A silver-painted fingernail teased at the fine strip of hair between slender shaped thighs. Cloud could see the moist slit of the Blessed Mother's sacred entry. Face or no face, he wanted to worship this Goddess's flesh.

As Cloud studied the photo, he realized the multi-eyed woman wasn't alone in the room. A tall standing mirror appeared at the corner of the photo. There, Cloud spotted the photographer's reflection; a naked muscular man with dark skin and dreadlocked hair. He glistened with sweat. By the look of his slimed half-spent member, they'd had unprotected sex just moments before the photo was taken.

Intangible, beautiful creatures like this woman had no right to exist, Cloud thought with a frown on his face. She did not belong in that disarray dirty room, filling herself up with another man's cock. Cloud found himself despising her for it.

'THE CHOSEN'

you **H**ave awakened  
you are the chosen  
through me **S**alvation waits  
**I**n you is **H**ope  
speak my name  
walk and you may pass  
**T**he **P**ath is **O**pening  
**R**eceive the message  
the **E**nd came

follow the sequence

The passage Cloud had encountered from before now showed again. Looking over it, he wondered what the final words, _follow the sequence_, meant. Apparently, there was a sequence somewhere on this page. Two or more things were related to each other. Perhaps _The Sacred_ was connected to _The Chosen_?

Below _The Chosen_, a saturated grainy photograph appeared. This photo showcased a porcelain doll. Entitled _Abandoned Toy_, the doll sat by itself in a low-lit corner. The lips were meticulously painted with a glossy raspberry-pink color; a soft rouge tone highlighted the cheeks. All of its hair had been ripped off, leaving behind a few strands of silver hair. A crown of cherry-black roses rested on the doll's bald head while a fishnet veil hung over its face. With long purple eyelashes, the doll's lifeless green eyes stared out through the veil.

For Cloud, the doll was a freak of nature; a demented object that had been discarded once its owner grew tired of the freakish experiments inflicted on it. The right arm had been replaced by a black wing that once belonged to an actual bird. To Cloud's dismay, he could see the rotten bits of flesh stick out from the seams. Other disturbing modifications were made on the doll. Everything below its waist had been swapped out for spider-like legs; they were made of straight razors. Across the doll's exposed chest, the breasts had been sanded off and carved words appeared: _Am I Pretty, Daddy?_

'THE DREAM'

In that place where night meets day  
A dream came to me  
Beloved Children  
Builders of Worlds  
The eternal moment draws near  
End awaits all, but do not fear  
Taste my blood, savor the skin  
Let the transformation begin  
All will be one, all will be one  
Heaven's light, my will be done  
For in that place where night meets day  
A dream came to be

Now from one to nine, find the Divine

This final passage was followed by a beautifully rendered oil painting called _Mundus_. It contained an angel and demon fused together at the waist. The hybrid took on an androgynous appearance, lacking breasts and genitalia. It featured long limbs and a slender-like bone structure. A feathery white wing jetted out of the angel's left side while a large dark bat-like shape emerged from the demon's right. A ten-circled symbol showed on its chest; each circle connected to each other by an assortment of triangles. Like the Blessed Mother, the demon-angel had no face, only eyes. They stared in all directions. Surrounded by stars, the creature held a planet with blood-stained hands.

Cloud chewed more of his pen's tip, trying to figure out the connection. As disturbing as some of these images were, they also conveyed a spiritual metaphysical vibe – was the child a devout Gaia follower? All of this meant _something_. It all somehow related to the silver-haired boy. But how?

At this point, Mr. Bugenhagen's voice emerged. Cloud didn't realize the instructor had just called on his name until chuckles followed next. When the teen finally looked up, he found his classmates snickering and grinning back at him. Mr. Bugenhagen stared directly at Cloud.

"Gaia to Cloud, Gaia to Cloud…" the old man beckoned and still sat cross-legged on his giant ball. "Did you hear my question? Or was your head stuck in the _clouds_? Ho, ho, ho! Get it, Cloud? Stuck in the _clouds_ – ho, ho, ho! A fitting name you have!"

Cloud's cheeks reddened in reaction to the instructor's lame joke – _good grief_. The laughs in the classroom grew louder. When Mr. Bugenhagen repeated his question, Cloud managed to redeem himself by answering it correctly. Scarcely avoiding a similar fate as the student who'd been turned into a frog, he paid better attention to the rest of the lecture. Thankfully, according to the clock on the wall, it wouldn't be long.

"Materia is the only way we can draw on the powers of the Lifestream," incited Mr. Bugenhagen, "However, a long time ago an ancient race known as the Cetra lived in this land and shared a deep relationship with the Planet. It was this relationship that allowed them to use magic without materia. Story goes, the Cetra held all the secrets of the Lifestream, including the path to the Promised Land."

Cloud froze in his seat at the mention of the instructor's last words. _Promised Land?_ He reread the passage from _The Sacred_ and discovered that same phrase there – _the Promised Land awaits us_. Recording those two words in his notebook, Cloud wondered if this was a reference to the same place Mr. Bugenhagen just mentioned or a mere coincidence.

"What happened to the Cetra?" a classmate one row ahead of Cloud asked; a man in his forties.

Mr. Bugenhagen bounced on his ball, moving away from the chalkboard. His eyes drifted from one student to the next. "A meteor fell from the sky thousands of years ago, forming the Northern Crater we see today. From that meteor, a _plague_ emerged and swept across the land. It caused the extinction of the Cetra. Few historians refer to this tragedy as the Calamity from the Skies."

"I heard a group of archaeologists investigated the Northern Crater a long time ago," another student mentioned. "What caused the plague to finally stop?"

"The remaining Cetra managed to contain it before eventually going extinct themselves."

"W-will something similar happen to _us_ in the future though?" inquired a student from a corner. Wide-eyed, she didn't blink. "The Cetra contained the plague, but w-what's to stop it from spreading again?"

The old man curled the tip of his beard with a finger as he pondered over the question. "Hmmm, that's a fine query. This actually relates to one of many apocalyptic scenarios proposed by Gaia cults. For instance, they believe the Calamity from the Skies _will_ return – it is penance for the sins committed against the Planet, mainly of our ongoing mako consumption."

"S-so the end of the world will be caused by this… plague?" The female's face appeared drained of color.

"That's _one_ theory. Other cult branches allege the Planet's wrath will give birth to a _new_ harbinger of destruction instead, one different but equally devastating as the plague that killed the Cetra. According to these cult fractions, the new Harbinger will restore the universal balance by cleansing the world of its _sinners_ through fire."

"That's terrible," a man of fifty-years old declared, "The Planet would never allow it…"

"Ah, but you forget, Mr. Sutherland," Mr. Bugenhagen countered, "The Planet is neither benevolent nor malevolent. To prove this point, two special materias exist here: Holy and the Black Materia. The Black Materia is worth noting because its sole function is to decimate all living creatures here. If the Planet truly desired to protect her children from a Calamity, why would it willingly manifest the Black Materia?"

All present students looked amongst themselves. No one could provide an answer.

"It is my belief the Black Materia acts as a fail-safe device," resumed Mr. Bugenhagen, "Planet suicide, if you will. Much like the rumored Weapons, it has taken measures to ensure a universal balance, even at the cost of its own destruction. If a new Harbinger does exist, it is because the Planet has willed it so."

"Then we're _fucked_?" one man colorfully blurted out.

"Ho, ho, ho! Very much. While cults adhere to the belief that only true Gaia followers will survive the purge and be led to the Promised Land, there's no guarantee anyone will be saved should these events occur." Mr. Bugenhagen shrugged his shoulders. "But who knows? Perhaps it is all the gibberish talks of crazed men and women. Or perhaps… a doomsday figure walks among us today. Ho, ho, ho! Terrifying thought, isn't it!"

The class went quiet. Mr. Bugenhagen had a terrible sense of humor.

Class ended shortly after. Everyone grabbed their belongings and started to leave. Cloud stayed behind; the laptop still opened. He was supposed to meet Jessie for his bike lesson today. However, he had thirty minutes to kill before their get-together. Determined to get somewhere with the child's riddle, he looked over the website's contents again, hoping to find something he may have missed.

"_Cloud? Is everything okay?_"

Cloud flinched in his seat when he noticed Mr. Bugenhagen abruptly appear next to him. The elderly man had a nasty habit of showing up out of nowhere with little warning.

"Uh, y-yeah." Cloud exhaled slowly. "I'm fine, sir. Why do you ask?"

Mr. Bugenhagen mindfully stroked his long beard. "Hmmm… How should I put this? You were _off_ today. The lights were on but no one was home, ho, ho, ho."

"I'm all right…" Cloud muttered back. "I just got a lot on my plate."

"Oh? Anything I can do? I like helping myself to a plate. Ho, ho, ho!"

Great. Another bad joke. With a sigh, Cloud insisted, "It's actually stupid."

"Try me."

The teen paused. After contemplating over his issue, he didn't see the harm in finally admitting, "I have to figure out someone's name. It's a riddle."

"_Really?_ Ho, ho, ho! Oh, how I love riddles! Let me see it, Cloud."

The boy stared at his instructor; bewildered. Cloud halfway expected the old man to leave. Instead, Mr. Bugenhagen bounced on his green ball and clapped his hands, eager for a challenge.

"Weeeeeeell?" pestered Mr. Bugenhagen. He repeatedly moved back and forth on his big ball.

Cloud wanted to kick himself for saying anything at all. Granted, Mr. Bugenhagen meant well. He never liked seeing his students in distress. But this was embarrassing. Solving riddles for the sake of meeting creepy-eyed schoolboys kinda verged toward perversion. And yet… if anyone could solve the boy's riddle it had to be Mr. Bugenhagen. The quirky old man possessed all the smarts in the world.

Cloud finally showed the instructor his laptop's screen. He waited for the old man to look over the images and written segments. Mr. Bugenhagen suddenly readjusted his glasses and cleared his throat when he came across the Blessed Mother's picture.

"Oh my…" the old man breathed out; wide-eyed.

Cloud sank in his seat. He wished he had remembered that raunchy photo before showing it to the old man, especially when said old man flushed brightly.

"Why are you visiting this site, Cloud?" Mr. Bugenhagen later pressed. His face formed prominent wrinkles across the forehead. "Do you… _know_ this person?"

Cloud didn't know what to make of that last question. He grew more and more reluctant to tell Mr. Bugenhagen _why_ he needed to solve this riddle though. Unable to meet the other man in the eyes, Cloud murmured, "It's for a friend. He wanted me to, uh, help him out with this."

"A friend…?"

Cloud nodded and kept his face down. Already, he felt terrible for lying to his instructor.

Thankfully, Mr. Bugenhagen said nothing else. He surveyed the information on the website. A long moment of silence dragged on until the instructor spoke again. "Ah! Ho, ho, ho! I got it."

Cloud waited for him to continue.

"Once you recognize the pattern," the old man started, "then it's a matter of finding the answers."

Cloud cocked a brow. "A pattern?"

"Indeed, there is one." Mr. Bugenhagen pointed at the passage entitled _The Sacred_. "There are numbers under certain letters in this passage. For example, below the letter _I_ is the number nine."

"What about that?"

"_I_ is the _ninth_ letter in the alphabet. Ho, ho, ho!_"_

Cloud scoffed at himself, surprised he missed that. He checked the letter _U_ with the number twenty-one below it next. Sure, enough, _U_ was the twenty-first letter in the alphabet. After Cloud looked over the other bold-faced letters in the passage, he turned to his instructor. "So is that it?"

"Not quite." The old man stroked his beard again. "The letter _U_ is the twenty-first letter in the alphabet. But it's a double digit number. _U_ equals three, not twenty-one."

"Huh?" Cloud stared back at him, his mind ready to explode.

"For double digit numbers, we need to separate them into single digits. Then add those single digits together. For example, twenty-one becomes _two plus one_. Two plus one makes three; _U_ equals three." A grin formed across Mr. Bugenhagen's lips. "Ho, ho, ho! Not so bright in the head, are you, Cloud?"

Cloud's half-slit eyes glared at the old man, but he said nothing.

"Once you've figured out the numbers to the other letters, apply the same method I showed you on any other double digit number you find." The old man nodded, sounding content. "Go on, try. I'll wait."

With a big smile on his face, Mr. Bugenhagen bounced on his big ball and quietly hummed to himself.

Ignoring his irritating humming sounds, Cloud grabbed his notebook and followed the old man's instructions. He rewrote the entire passage and figured out the alphabetical number to each bold letter. Afterward, for any number with double digits, he split the numbers apart and added them together.

|**I**|

|9|

|**J**|O|U|R|N|E|Y|  
|10|1+0|-|-|-|-|-|

|**N**|O|W|-|T|O|-|T|H|E|-|S|A|C|R|E|D|

|14|1+4|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|**M**|O|T|H|E|R|

|13|1+3|-|-|-|-|

|H|E|R|E|-|S|**H**|E|-|W|A|I|T|S|-|F|O|R|-|M|E|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|8|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|**U**|N|D|E|R|-|A|-|B|L|A|N|K|E|T|-|O|F|-|S|T|A|R|S|

|21|2+1|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|T|H|E|-|**P**|R|O|M|I|S|E|D|-|L|A|N|D|-|A|W|A|I|T|S|-|U|S|

|-|-|-|-|-|16|1+6|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

|O|P|E|N|-|T|H|E|-|D|**O**|O|R|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|15|1+5|

|T|O|-|T|H|E|-|W|O|M|B|-|O|F|-|A|L|L-|C|R|E|A|**T**|I|O|N|

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|20|2+0|-|

From this point on, it was a matter of simple arithmetic. 9, 1, 5, 4, 8, 3, 7, 6, and 2… Those were the numbers Cloud ended up with. He jotted them down on his notebook. Nearby, Mr. Bugenhagen stretched his neck out to take a peek at his work. He clapped his hands.

"Ah, so there is hope for you yet, Cloud. Ho, ho, ho! Congratulations, we've acquired nine numbers."

Admittedly, Cloud felt proud of himself. He discovered the answers to _The Sacred_. It was a lot simpler than he thought. However, he couldn't decide what to do next. What did nine numbers have to do with the boy's name?

As if reading his mind, Mr. Bugenhagen pointed at _The Chosen_ passage next. "Notice something pecuuuliar about this, Cloud? Hmm?"

Scanning _The Chosen_, Cloud knew what the instructor meant. He initially thought it was strange a few words were capitalized while others weren't. The incorrect use of capitalization also proved curious enough. The child Cloud met last night sounded educated – too mature for his age. He wouldn't make a careless mistake like that, would he? With his pen, Cloud wrote down all the capitalized words on his notebook: _Have_,_ Salvation_, _In_, _Hope_, _The_, _Path_, _Opening_, _Receive_, and _End_.

"Nine letters for nine numbers," the instructor pointed out evenly. Mr. Bugenhagen grabbed Cloud's pen and circled the first letter of each word. "See?"

"_H_,_ S_, _I_, _H_, _T_, _P_, _O_, _R_, and _E_," Cloud noted aloud.

"_Follow the sequence_…" Mr. Bugenhagen ordered with a nod. "_Now from one to nine, find the Divine._"

Cloud finally understood how all three passages related to each other. First, he needed to pair the numbers from _The Sacred_ to the letters from _The Chosen_ in the exact order they appeared. Then he had to rearrange those letters from _one to nine_, according to _The Dream_.

"I'll leave the rest to you." Sensing Cloud's resolution, Mr. Bugenhagen bounced on his ball and made his way out of Room 22. He paused at the door and glanced back though. "It's funny how something as simple as a _name_ can inspire in us a collection of thoughts and emotions. As a name manifests itself during proper introductions or random conversation, it carries the potential of provoking a strong reaction. Ho, ho, ho! I wonder what kind of impact this new name will bring to you."

Mr. Bugenhagen smiled. Then he turned away. The old man looked hilarious, bouncing all the way out on his green ball. It was a miracle he didn't fall off.

Cloud kept to himself but considered his words. Mr. Bugenhagen was right: a name held a lot of weight. His own made him the topic of countless jokes. Seconds away from discovering the child's identity, Cloud wondered if he faced the same challenges he did every day. Was the boy's name a typical safe one like _Bob_ and _John_? Or a colorful yet stupid one like _Cloud_?

With the instructor gone, Cloud paired the numbers with the letters. H equaled 9. S equaled 1. I equaled 5. H equaled 4. T equaled 8. P equaled 3. O equaled 7. R equaled 6. And E equaled 2. From that point, Cloud rearranged the letters from one to nine. S was first. E was second. P was third. H was fourth. I was fifth. R was sixth. O was seventh. T was eight. And H was last.

Finally, a name manifested itself. Cloud sat back in his seat. In his brief moment of silence, he realized there was no chance in hell he would've guessed _this_ name.

"_Sephiroth_… Your name is, _Sephiroth_." Cloud spoke aloud in the empty room. The way the name slipped out of his mouth sounded both foreign and alluring. It was as if he'd just spoken a forbidden word.

This name didn't belong to a child.

Cloud took a deep breath as he came back to his senses and typed _Sephiroth_ into its designated spot. To his relief, the timer on the website finally stopped and he was rewarded with a new message: _correct answer_. One second passed before he was automatically redirected to another part of the website. A new passage appeared dead-center of the screen.

_Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess  
We seek it thus, and take to the sky  
Ripples form on the water's surface  
The wandering soul knows no rest_

Cloud recognized this passage. It came from a book he read as a child. _LOVELESS_. This fantasy involved three men on an adventure: a hero, traveler, and prisoner. The trio traveled to the great unknown in search for _the gift of the Goddess_ but got separated during a battle. How their journey ended became a matter of serious debate, especially when the last chapter of _LOVELESS_ was lost.

Cloud found it peculiar the Host club was named after the literary work. Then again, _LOVELESS_ had garnered so much popularity lately due to the onslaught of modern-day plays, novels, and movies. Cloud remembered his date with Jessie tomorrow; they were going to see the play.

A submission form suddenly popped onscreen. Unable to access the site's navigation bar yet, Cloud was required to create a log-in name first and provide his PHS number, text ID, and email address. He wasn't too keen on giving out his personal information online but went along with it anyway. This was his chance to see the child again. _Sephiroth_ had specifically requested for his participation.

After Cloud entered his personal information, the _LOVELESS_ passage faded away and a menu appeared. Success. He now had full access to the Host club.

Composed of dark velvet colors and abstract imagery, the site conveyed a simple yet chic design. The navigation bar above listed five categories: _Main_, _Information_, _Hosts_, _Blog,_ and _Contact_. Like a child granted admission to a new playpen, Cloud was eager to venture about. An abrupt _ping_ sound caught his attention though. It was followed by the appearance of a gray chat box. It popped up on the bottom right of his browser window. A message greeted Cloud.

**LOVELESS:** _Welcome to LOVELESS_. _My friend, your desire is the gift of the Goddess. I am your Host, Essai. Would you like a guided tour?_

Cloud stared at the chat box. Chewing on his pen again, he wondered if this was an automated message or a personal invite. He'd only arrived ten seconds ago.

**LOVELESS:** _I don't believe we've met before, Cloud._

Frowning, the teenager sat still in his seat. _Cloud?_ The messenger knew his name.

**LOVELESS:** _I see you were personally invited here by Sephiroth. Interesting. Not many are._

This _definitely_ wasn't an automated message, Cloud realized. He removed the pen from his mouth. _Essai_ must've looked over his personal information the moment he had submitted it in. But that was just ten seconds ago. Surprised, Cloud suspected this Host was in charge of surveying all online activity as well as monitoring the site's traffic flow. This nerved him though. He didn't like being spied on. Finally breaking away from his state of shock, Cloud replied under his online alias name in the chat box.

**Omnislash:** _Is Sephiroth here?_

**LOVELESS:** _Not at the moment. But I will pass along your personal information to him. Expect Sephiroth to contact you within twenty-hour hours. In the meantime, I will go over a few house rules with you._

Cloud waited for Essai to continue.

**LOVELESS: **_Basic etiquette applies. The sharing of information related to this site and our Hosts is strictly forbidden. Failure to comply with this will result in one warning. After that, you will be banned. Note: your IP address has been logged for future reference. Do you understand what I've explained so far?_

**Omnislash:** _Yea._

**LOVELESS:** _Excellent. If you have any questions or require assistance, you will find the contact information posted on the site. I will be watching over you. Thank you for coming and enjoy your visit._

The chat box disappeared before Cloud got the chance to type a response.

_I will be watching over you_… That part didn't sit too well with him. But it wasn't like he could do anything about it. LOVELESS existed as an exclusive, secretive club. It had set up shop in the Hidden Gate to ensure its privacy. Only invited guests could gain access here. Essai had every right to monitor all of the site's visitors. Accepting this, Cloud set aside his feelings of annoyance and concern and proceeded into the site. He clicked on the navigation links.

The _Information_ page brought up the club's regular business hours, basic rates, normal and VIP fees, special deals, and events coming up.

On the _Blog_ page, Cloud found photos and the mad ramblings of a writer obsessed with the literary work. There was over a hundred pages worth of interpretations and theories related to _LOVELESS_. Cloud didn't understand much of it. The overuse of third-tiered words and long-winded sentences indicated the author was either an intellectual or a condescending ass-wipe. However, from the blogs Cloud learned the writer's obsession with _LOVELESS_ influenced the Host club's architectural design.

Interior shots of the club revealed walls and furniture in the art-deco style –geometric shapes, symmetrical patterns, and highly saturated hues. Each floor was designated its own color and revealed a written passage from the literary work. A massive chandelier with a sunburst design hung over a blue-lit lounge. This area was consumed by reflective objects like mirrors, glass, and water wall fountains; all intended to portray the all-knowing, all-seeing Goddess. Above the lounge's entry were the words: _She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting_. In a crimson-cast hallway, elongated columns stood tall while thousands of crystals and lights dangled from the ceiling. At another location – a purple-tinted space – abstract paintings of the three main LOVELESS characters hung against zigzag-patterned wallpaper.

Curiosity drove the teenager to check the profiles of the website next. This part of the website featured a series of squares with a single letter in each box. On the occasion two squares contained the same letter, another was added to distinguish the two. Cloud clicked on a random square: _K_.

This led him to the profile of a Host named _Kunsel_. A shaggy, brown-haired man in his twenties popped on screen. Clean-shaven, the Host sported a muscular and lean frame in his photos. It was clear he worked out and dedicated himself to a healthy diet of vegetables and high protein. Below his handsome mug-shot, Cloud read a paragraph's worth of personal facts. There were his business hours, the minimum amount he charged per hour, and telephone number. Kunsel apparently liked to read, socialize, and had a knack at remembering information. In the club, he was nicknamed the_ Informant_.

As Cloud explored the other profiles he felt at odds with himself. With well-proportioned features and skin that glowed with radiance, these boys were a little _too_ perfect. They didn't show blemishes, birthmarks, or unwanted pimples. Their hairstyles were so fashionable Cloud repeatedly ran a hand through his choppy own locks of hair– a vain attempt at tidying it. These pretty boys at LOVELESS belonged on the covers of magazines and movie posters. Yet, there was one unusual feature they all shared, something that instantly caught Cloud's attention.

Eerie, bright-blue eyes.

It was a color more intense than the brightest summer sky Cloud ever witnessed. Strangely enough, he'd seen those eyes before. The image of a young man with wild dark hair – _Don't take this the wrong way, okay? But… I _really_ hope we don't meet again _– flashed in Cloud's mind for a brief second_._ That face faded away too fast to leave any permanent memory-imprint behind though.

Of the collection of Hosts Cloud came across, four letters required a password: _A_,_ G_,_ S_, and _Z_. The teen suspected the letter _S_ belonged to the child, Sephiroth. It was strange a boy that young was allowed into the club. Pedophiles and other creeps likely called on his service. Of course, the child didn't act like other boys his age. The young Sephiroth carried a powerful aura around him. He was… _different_.

Typing in Sephiroth's name into the password box, Cloud pressed _enter_ and was taken to his Host's page. White noise shrieked from the laptop's speakers while a collection of video clips flashed onscreen.

A group of white doves appeared first. Close-up shots showed each bird pinned to a wall by long needles. Trapped, their bloody wings helplessly fluttered until they became still. Beady black eyes stared back into the camera.

An interior shot of a low-lit dome chamber appeared next. Ten candelabras sat on a purple clothed table at the center; their green flames flickered against a breeze. In front of them was a large symbol spray-painted on the bricked wall. Composed of intricate lines and geometric shapes, it looked like a summon spell. Cloud had never seen it before in his textbooks.

As the video played, ten life-size statues, made of bronze, stood at full height. Metal spikes ran along their eerie humanoid shapes. They surrounded the altar table and stared up at a ceiling that depicted a holographic representation of the universe.

A slender figure soon walked into this chamber. Hidden by a long white veil that reached down to the feet, the tall shape both unsettled and intrigued Cloud. It reappeared on various video clips, sometimes holding a bloody dove. At one point, _the virgin bride_ stood in the middle of a white room with a white bathtub. It was filled with milk. Scattered across the floor were white feathers. The veil gradually slid off and Cloud saw the backside of a fully nude woman. She had a thin waist with long arms and legs. Cloud instantly recognized her as the woman from the _Blessed Mother of Space Gods_ photo.

This beautiful silver-haired angel never turned around as she stepped inside the tub and lowered herself. Her entire body submerged and disappeared. Seconds later, the video clip showed drops of blood surface across the pool of milk.

After the introduction video stopped, Cloud discovered more clips in Sephiroth's personal gallery section. The teen hoped to see the woman again and clicked on them. There were ten videos, each only fifteen seconds long. Cloud couldn't understand what was on his screen as he played them. A distorted nursery song played in the background while glimpses of squirming maggots, sperm swimming, and a live heart pumping flickered onscreen. In between shots there was a moist fleshy probe that repeatedly slid back and forth against the pulpy walls of a narrow slick tunnel. It thrust faster and faster.

The erotic yet disgusting images caused Cloud's stomach to recoil. He felt nauseous. If the child created these videos he was either a brilliant genius or of a disturbed mind.

Avoiding the other clips, the teen turned his attention to the beautiful oil paintings also posted in the gallery. He studied the silhouette of a lonely figure that floated at the center of a sunburst. Ten pillars of light surrounded it. Written words accompanied the painting: _To the Promised Land_…

Sephiroth's profile page was definitely different from the other Hosts. His face never appeared on a single video or picture. His personal tastes also ventured toward the bizarre and spiritual. Cloud could not understand how a child his tender age reached this level of complexity. But this wasn't the only thing that set Sephiroth apart. Discovering the Host's rates, Cloud found it was significantly higher than the others. Apparently, this boy was in high demand. He cost a whopping five thousand Gil per hour.

Cloud scoffed out loud. He didn't expect to pay that much during their meeting, especially when he was a broke-ass teen who worked at a fast-food restaurant. Sephiroth invited him anyway. There was no mention of _charges_. Or was there? Spotting an email address, Cloud was tempted to contact Sephiroth himself and iron out any confusion before they arranged a meeting. His PHS suddenly buzzed though.

**TheMechanic (1:25PM):** _I'm outside the library, Cloud. I brought tacos! :)_

Cloud spat out a curse word after he read the text message. It was Jessie.

Damn it, he'd nearly forgotten about today's bike lesson. Jessie was already waiting for him outside. Cloud quickly closed the browser and shut off his laptop. Stashing the device inside his backpack, he decided to deal with the Host's unworldly tastes and rates later. Learning how to get over his motion sickness and ride a bike was more important than meeting strange green-eyed boys anyway. Cloud hurried out of the room.


	17. Buzz Killer

**Author's Note:** _The chapter in which Cloud discovers the world's biggest cock blocker. Warning: lots of naughty hormonal-driven stuff._

* * *

CHAPTER 16: Buzz Killer

Before the bike lesson, the two teens briefly stopped by Cloud's place. It took Cloud only ten minutes to dump his books, feed Ms. Tinker, and change. He had switched to a pair of faded jeans and a light long-sleeved shirt; comfortable clothing he didn't care to dirty or abuse. On his way out, Cloud slipped on a textile jacket embedded with protective pads for the elbows and shoulders. A pair of matching gloves covered his hands. He stashed his PHS and a motion sickness pill in his pants' pockets. Cloud was ready. Making sure to set his cellphone on vibrate mode, he exited the building through the double doors.

Outside, Jessie sat on a rusted motorcycle with a helmet between her legs. Both hands rested behind her while she leaned back on the seat and waited. A smile quickly graced her face when Cloud passed the gate of his apartment. Cloud waved to her but paused midway in his stride.

His eyes strayed to Jessie's grimy one-piece suit. With the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, it hugged her body tightly, accenting the curves of her hips, breasts, and thighs – everything. The long front zipper of her suit wasn't zipped up to her neck. It only reached to her chest. Any lower and he'd see her bra. The color on Cloud's face flushed fiercely.

Throughout the week, there had been a change in Jessie. They'd gotten to know each other. Because of that, she talked often and looked him in the eye. Rarely did she stutter anymore unless she was nervous. Jessie's personality shined the best whenever they talked about machines and funny gizmos.

Cloud liked her company. As he stood a few feet away from the girl, he took note of her attire again. That terrible teenage needy demand of his… it conjured up a naughty scenario in his head. Cloud idly wondered if Jessie could straddle him as good as she did a bike.

Oblivious to his mental wanderings, Jessie held up a paper bag. "Chow time!"

Cloud was relieved by the sight of grub. He hadn't eaten lunch yet. It was a light meal too, enough to give him energy and, at the same time, not worsen any potential motion sickness symptoms he might encounter today. Jessie scooted back on the bike to offer him a place to sit and eat.

Cloud's brows furrowed. Jessie never moved _back_ before. She always stayed at the front of the bike. Did this mean… she wanted him to ride today?

A grin quickly shaped itself on Cloud's lips. He grabbed the bag of tacos offered to him and planted himself on the bike's helm. Finally! He was given the chance to drive this baby. All this week Jessie had taught him safety measures and standard procedures; boring stuff. Cloud didn't think he'd ride the bike any time soon. Thankfully, Jessie had other plans today.

After gulping down a pill to prepare for today's lesson, Cloud undid the foil of his taco. He took a bite while Jessie chewed on a raspberry-filled treat.

"You ready to _own_ this?" Jessie smacked the side of the bike with a hand.

Jessie's words and slapping action unintentionally summoned another crude image in Cloud's head. He readjusted himself on the bike's seat, grateful to be at the front. "Um. I guess…"

"With this amount of power between your legs, you will become an unstoppable force of nature, Cloud. Trust me. You'll ride this baby all night long in no time!"

Cloud nearly choked on his taco.

Once the two finished their lunch, Jessie handed him the helmet on her lap and grabbed hers from the tail-end of the bike. Then she went over the usual procedures. Cloud knew most of them by heart already. He'd been drilled on it from day one. Of course, _knowing_ the procedures was one thing. Executing them on the spot? That was a whole different story.

Performance anxiety kicked in. Finally put on the spotlight, Cloud feared he'd confuse the brake with the throttle with the clutch with the whatever-the-fuck-that-other-thing-was-called during their bike ride. Even when Jessie constantly reassured him these steps would become second-nature, he could feel a tight knot develop in his stomach. The sweat on his palms accumulated inside the gloves.

"You remember how to engage and disengage with the clutch and brake, right?" Jessie asked.

Cloud took a deep, dried swallow.

"Remember: the blunt of the braking work is in the front handlebar, not the rear gear." Jessie scooted closer to him from behind. She placed her hands on his hips. "And don't forget proper body weight distribution, especially during rough turns at high speeds. If you make a hard left, you need to shift your weight to the right to keep from tipping over. Counter steering, yeah?"

The boy licked the top of his chapped lip. It was hard to pay attention when Jessie pressed herself against him like that. As the sweet citrus scent of her shampoo reached his nose, Cloud inwardly wished he had jacked off before their meeting. He'd come into this lesson with a fully loaded pistol.

_Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._

A vibration? It was an incoming caller. Cloud briefly checked the number but didn't recognize it. Not wanting to be rude to Jessie, he ignored it and slipped the PHS back inside his pants' pocket.

"Are you ready?" Jessie's voice was muffled by the helmet she now slapped on.

Cloud put on his. "Think so…"

"Good. Let's ride!"

Cloud took a deep breath. It was now or never. Heaven help him.

The first order of business was finding a good spot on the bike. Cloud spent seconds shifting in his seat for a comfortable position. Being in the front felt different; it was both an empowering and intimidating feeling. After a long exhale, he lifted the kickstand off the ground with the side of his boot. The bike's key was already inside the ignition; _Gear 1_ in place. A green light glowed the moment he turned it. Cloud flicked up a red switch near the right handlebar. It set the bike on _run_ mode and primed the engine. Cautious of his first ride, he pulled in the clutch handle while he changed from _Gear 1_ to _Neutral_, his left foot kicking down the gear lever at half a click.

Bingo.

A green light verified the bike was ready for take-off. Breathing out slowly again, Cloud started the bike's engine. A gentle purr from the rusted machine prompted him to smile. He couldn't believe it. After all those years of daydreaming, of riding off to some distant red sunset, this was finally fucking happening. Right here. Right now. Once Jessie gave him the thumbs up, Cloud shifted from _Neutral_ back to _Gear 1_. His hand slowly let go of the clutch. They started to move.

It being his first ride, Cloud took his time. He had to get over the shock of being in full control of a motorcycle. His entire body vibrated from the engine's persistent purr. Cloud was glad his stomach didn't react to it. His sight also stayed focus on the path ahead without going blurred. Behind him, Jessie remained silent. She did not distract him or interrupt this very pinnacle moment in his life. Cloud was grateful for that. It gave him more courage to release the clutch. He nearly yelped when the bike abruptly stopped.

The engine shut down.

"What the hell? _Did I break it?_" a panicked voice came out of Cloud's throat. Shit. Only a few seconds of riding and he already murdered his damn bike.

Laughing, Jessie patted him on the back. "Nope, you didn't _break_ it. The bike just shut off because you released the clutch too fast. It happens to everyone, including me sometimes. You just need to _ease_ out of the clutch and find that sweet spot." She squeezed his shoulder for reassurance. "Start again."

_Sweet spot_, Cloud thought. Okaaaaay…

Sexual innuendos aside, the blond-haired teen forced himself to relax and breath. Restarting the process, he made sure to keep his hand on the clutch bar and gradually release it this time. The bike picked up speed. Cloud kept his hand on the front brake but resisted the temptation to press down on it.

The bike held steady at only six miles-per-hour. The speed of it still freaked Cloud out; he feared they would crash and explode in a million pieces if he went any faster than that. Thankfully, Jessie had no issue with how painfully slow they went. She offered only words of encouragement and held onto him.

"Let's head to the scrap yard," Jessie suggested later above the bike's constant purring.

Cloud licked his dried lips. He knew how to get there, but riding a bike to that location was a different experience than _walking_ to it. Cloud hoped there weren't any children or dogs in his way. He was an unlicensed virgin biker determined to pop his cherry today. Keeping to the speed of six miles-per-hour, he made a slow turn.

Cloud passed by a group of beggars. They all had the good sense to steer clear. Midway to his destination, the PHS vibrated again – _Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._ Cloud was too nervous to bother with it.

Within ten minutes, they arrived at the scrap yard. A place with raw building materials collected from trash, the two were surrounded by piles of scrapped metals and wood that reached several feet high. Not many people came here except those involved in building projects.

It was at this point Jessie spoke again. "I want you to experiment and get used to the bike. Okay?"

Cloud nodded back. His nerves had gradually settled down since they arrived; a result of not getting anyone killed so far. Eager to test out his abilities as a bike rider, he circled the scrap yard.

It wasn't long until the novice learned the true challenges of riding a motorcycle. His left hand needed to let go of the clutch while his right hand had to press into the throttle; they were two opposing commands. Natural instinct wanted to either press them both down or release at the same time. This produced stalls and awkward jerks. As Cloud picked up speed and practiced on counter steering, they fell at least five times due to improper weight distribution. He'd be sore after this. When it came to slowing down, Cloud had trouble remembering to let go of the throttle or to gently squeeze the clutch. That led to more stalling and more bruising.

At around five o' clock, the Slums got darker and Jessie decided to call it a day. It was a good thing too. Cloud ached everywhere and the wonderful effects of his motion sickness pill had finally worn off. Now his skin felt hot and his stomach twisted and turned. On Jessie's final request, they came to a stop. Cloud applied the front brake handle while his right foot stepped down on the rear lever to stop the back tires. It was a hard brake. The front tire locked up and both of them slid forward from the momentum.

Relieved they were still in one piece, Cloud shut off the engine and set down the kickstand. They removed their helmets. Jessie rubbed one of her scrapped knees with a hand.

"Not bad, Cloud, not bad… You're getting the hang of it. We'll work on shifting next time."

"Shifting…" Cloud repeated very slowly. He recalled the bike's six gears. Today they went over one.

"Yep. It's pretty simple. Basically, you roll on first gear and shift when you're between six-to-four thousand on the meter. Then you kill the throttle and pull the clutch. Click up with the gear lever. Once you've shifted gears, just ease out of the clutch and squeeze the throttle again." Jessie smiled. "Simple. If you want to go down a gear level, repeat the same steps except click _down_. Got it?"

Silence.

"Also, the higher the gear number, the more speed you have to maintain. Otherwise, you'll kill the engine, just like what happened when you pulled out of the clutch too fast."

Cloud tried to break down what she said, piece by piece. The terminology and methods was lost on him.

Noting his puzzled look, Jessie tightened her ponytail with both hands and said reassuringly, "Don't worry about it. It'll become clearer when you actually _do_ it."

Cloud appreciated Jessie's input and her patience. He wanted to thank her for today's lesson. However, he winced when his stomach still stirred. Both hands rubbed over his rigid abdominal muscles. Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and fought back the urge to vomit.

"Let's get you home," Jessie said with a nod.

They switched places and waited until Cloud's stomach settled again before heading off. At this late afternoon hour, there were less people out. Night always came early in the Slums; the winter air grew colder on account of the enveloping darkness. Jessie made sure to go slow and steady. She stopped any time Cloud clutched onto her from behind – a telltale sign he was in distress.

In short time, Jessie parked the bike next to Cloud's building and escorted him up. He was good enough to take the elevator. Even so, Cloud stayed quiet as they ascended together. His hand fidgeted nonstop with the keys inside his jacket's pocket. Aside from his motion sickness, the boy became very aware of Jessie's presence and the fact he hadn't brought a girl up to his apartment in months. This was the first time she visited it. Cloud wished he had tidied up his place earlier.

Within seconds, the elevator squeaked to a halt on his floor level. Cloud pushed the large gate to the side and let Jessie out first. Then he led her to his apartment. He offered an embarrassing smile as he struggled with his disjointed door. It finally opened after ten tries. The two made their way inside his apartment. Cloud locked the door after them and tossed the keys on a pile of books nearby. Immediately, Ms. Tinker appeared from a corner and barked at the stranger.

"Sorry, it's a mess," Cloud warned Jessie. He squatted down and rubbed Ms. Tinker's belly to calm her.

"It's okay." Jessie stared at Cloud. She looked ready to say something else but paused. Her eyes roamed about the apartment, taking everything in. Finally, she asked, "Um… M-mind if I use your bathroom?"

"It's to your left."

Jessie quickly followed his directions and disappeared in the bathroom.

Cloud stood at full height again and scanned his apartment. _God_. There were books everywhere, along with discarded clothes and dishware. The whole place reeked of Chocobo Chow grease and dog piss too. Cursing to himself, Cloud grabbed a can of fragrant spray and shot the air a few times with it. If Jessie didn't live in similar poor conditions, he would've pretended he lost his key and directed her home.

Hastily, Cloud gathered abandoned cups and plates he came across and dumped them in the sink. With no furniture, there was nowhere for his guest to sit, except on the bed and floor. He tried to improvise by stacking a couple of boxes on top of each other. A roach scuttled out from one of them. Cloud growled and tried to squash it. Close by, Ms. Tinker sat on her hind legs and silently observed her owner. Her head moved up and down each time Cloud stomped at the ground with his feet. Again and again.

The sound of a running faucet instantly alerted the blond-haired boy that Jessie was almost done. Stopping in his tracks, he heard the pipes whine while she washed her hands. Cloud ran a hand through his hair. Giving up his pursuit of the cockroach, he removed his gloves and unzipped the jacket. Both fell on the bed. Cloud took a deep breath and watched the mechanic step out of the bathroom.

"Thanks, Cloud." The smile on Jessie's face disappeared when Ms. Tinker barked at her again. Then she noticed Cloud's flushed face. She frowned. "Are you okay? Still feeling sick from the bike ride?"

Cloud hesitated. His stomach no longer caused a problem. But he opted to go along with that excuse anyway since he felt flustered at the moment. "Y-yeah…"

"You want me to get you anything from the Pharmacy?"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." Cloud's eyes drifted to some empty space on the floor. When Ms. Tinker barked again, he opened the window to let her out.

"You did great today, by the way," Jessie said later, changing the subject. "You'll have your bike license in no time." The mechanic sounded like she wanted to cheer him up. She looked around Cloud's apartment again. With a laugh, she mentioned, "Your place looks nicer than Wedge's and Biggs'. Their homes are littered with everything, you can't see the floor."

Cloud snickered, quietly agreeing with that sentiment.

Jessie briefly turned away. "I-I have to admit, Cloud… I'm kinda nervous right now."

"Why?" Surprised, Cloud looked back at her.

"It's not often I visit a guy's den."

"You've been at Biggs' place several times though."

"It's, um… _different_. He's like a brother to me." When Jessie met Cloud's face again, her cheeks flared with color. "It's weird. I expected a lot of typical boy things from your place, like in Biggs'. Pizza boxes, beer bottles, and stacks of porn magazines. But there's none of that here."

Cloud shrugged his shoulders and joked, "Guess I'm better at concealing those types of things."

Jessie took a small step forward. She kept her head down when she asked, "You, uh, like that too?"

"Like what?"

"Pizza, beer, and… porn."

Cloud was glad he had taken off his jacket earlier since the air felt terribly warm. It had nothing to do with the space heater though. He stared at her and retorted, "I dunno. Do _you_ like that kind of stuff?"

Jessie still had trouble meeting his gaze. However, in the moment she glanced up, she muttered with a small smile, "Yeah, maybe…"

Cloud's mouth slightly parted. Apparently, he wasn't the only one in this room with sex on the mind.

It couldn't be helped. They had spent a lot of time together this week because of the bike lessons. It was natural they'd grow sexually curious of the other. Both enjoyed each other's company and both had compatible parts designed to attach together. Cloud admittedly welcomed those fleeting moments of raw heat between them –those times when they made physical contact during a bike lesson. It had to do with that talk he shared with Kyle ages ago, something about _pent-up sexual frustration_. He had a lot of that these days.

"Unfortunately, I don't have any pizza or beer here at the moment," Cloud finally notified.

Jessie slowly looked up. She stared directly at him this time. "…What about the other thing?"

She didn't say anything else or give him a chance to respond. Instead, the girl wandered over to his bed and carefully removed her boots one by one, soon setting them aside. The bed squeaked when she sat on it and scooted up until her back pushed against a wall.

Surprised by Jessie's actions, Cloud kept quiet. He wasn't sure if he heard her right. Girls were funny mysterious creatures sometimes. He had trouble reading them, especially when they said one thing but meant the other. As Jessie waited for him on the bed, though, Cloud saw her cheeks flush again. She didn't move from her spot. Things became clear to him at that point. He realized the mechanic hadn't come up to his place solely just to check on him.

Cloud's heart thumped faster as he grabbed his laptop and finally joined Jessie. They sat side-by-side on the bed, pressed against the wall with a giant TSVIETS poster on it. A part of Cloud was tempted to ask Jessie if she really meant what she said. It wasn't often a girl openly admitted to liking naughty online videos, let alone, wanting to watch them with him; a wild child definitely lay dormant underneath that grimy one-piece suit. Cloud had trouble working his mouth to say anything though. He decided to play it safe and keep to his side of the bed, inches away from Jessie. The laptop was placed between them.

Cloud hoped his mother didn't choose this time to contact him via voice chat. He had promised to call her sometime today. No doubt, she'd be pissed if she learned why he chose not to right now.

The laptop's bright screen showed the default homepage of the search engine, Moogle. An animated Mog smiled. It happily waited for them to type in a word, as if their intended digital destination was innocent and full of pure _pom-pom_ thoughts. Both teens stared at the furry creature, frozen in place.

"We don't have to do anything, you know…" Cloud murmured, breaking the long awkward silence.

Jessie said nothing. Sitting still at her side of the bed, the mechanic continued looking at the computer screen with wide opened eyes. She appeared just as anxious as he was about this. Her chest visibly rose up and down while she took deep short breaths. Even so, Jessie glared at the Moogle in front of her, as if to challenge it. She leaned forward and typed in a four-lettered word in the search box. The arrow onscreen clicked on a link Cloud was very familiar with during many lonely late-night binges.

The silence between them remained while multiple naked bodies intertwined in various positions onscreen now. From the speakers, there were the constant slapping sounds of rough skin contact followed by low-pitched moans. Cloud felt awkward. This type of online activity had always been a private affair for him, too embarrassing to reveal to anyone. He feared his half-aroused state would put Jessie off. Instead, the corners of her mouth tugged slightly up when she noticed it.

"You know… the first time I made out with a guy was at my place," she quietly confessed above the loud panting sounds. "He was from the Plate but wanted to get his car fixed for a cheap price. We got along well. Then one night he took me out for drinks. We got tipsy. It was the biggest mistake of my life…"

Cloud tilted his head. "Why?"

"As we were getting it on, he asked me if I had lube. I told him it was on my dresser." Jessie turned to Cloud with a frown on her face. "You've been to my place before, remember? You know it's filled with all sorts of stuff related to my pet projects. It wasn't a surprise, then, when the drunken fool mistook a tube of superglue for lube."

Understanding the situation better, Cloud snorted out loud. "Oh god…"

"It took the doctors an entire day to detach his hand from his penis. I never saw him again." Jessie shook her head but showed a toothy grin.

The two shared a laugh at the silly ordeal. Cloud was inspired enough to expose his own first-time horror story, of the time he'd been so nervous and impatient that he hadn't fully washed his hands after eating super-hot Chocobo tenders that night. The woman he fingered couldn't stop complaining about a burning sensation between her thighs.

It was only when they exchanged their humiliating stories that the nerves loosened. With the tensed atmosphere lifted, Cloud leaned forward and shared a long but very wet kiss with Jessie. He could taste the raspberry treat she'd eaten earlier from her lips. Their teeth occasionally clicked whenever they pressed their mouths together too aggressively. After both pulled away to catch their breaths, they took turns picking the next lewd film to watch, sometimes making fun of the cheesy dialogue and terrible acting. For Cloud, this unexpected event proved more relaxing than a standard date.

_Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz. _The back of Cloud's pants vibrated again. His PHS. It was another incoming call. He decided to ignore it and keep watching the crude scene on his computer with Jessie.

There was a woman with long hair positioned on all fours. A bulky dark skinned man mounted her from behind. As he pounded into the beauty like a rabid animal in heat, the camera zoomed in for a close-up shot of their perverse connection. The woman reminded Cloud of the Blessed Mother –not quite as exotic, but slender and beautiful nonetheless.

Mindfully, he wondered if the silver-haired female had been taken similarly. Did she cling to the bed sheets with her nails? Part her legs wider to grasp more of her lover? Moan like a filthy whore? Those possibilities filled Cloud with resentment and arousal. It shaped his member fully upright.

Next to him, Jessie softly grunted. It was a barely audible sound that Cloud might've missed if he hadn't paid attention. He saw the girl repeatedly press and grind her thighs together. One of her hands rested on her lap, dangerously close to her groin. Jessie's eyes burned with the same intensity Cloud shared.

No words were exchanged as they sat side-by-side on the bed, leaned against the wall. Their hands slowly reached over to the other's lap. Fingers drifted to the warmest regions of their bodies. They kept their clothes on; both teens unsure of how far they should go in their first make-out session. Eventually, Jessie unzipped the front of her one-piece suit. She revealed a white bra with matching panties. The cotton fabric of her underwear felt warm and damped at the spot Cloud repeatedly rubbed. Jessie shuddered next to him. Her own hand explored the shape of his elongated muscle concealed by his light-washed jeans. Jessie soon looked at him with a questionable look on her face.

"Wait – you haven't eaten any spicy Chocobo tenders today. _Right?_"

"Not that I can recollect," Cloud joked back with an easy smile.

The two teens laughed while simultaneously pleasuring each other from their seated positions. Their hand motions were experimental and clumsy at best, but neither of them minded it. Jessie's legs trembled as Cloud ran his hand down her smooth belly and under the elastic waistband of her underwear. His fingers brushed against the moist lip of her vulva.

"You got a rubber?" Jessie breathlessly asked and gripped the cock in her hand tighter.

"No," Cloud reported, surprised by the question. They definitely needed one at this rate. A smirk developed on his features as he pointed out, "Isn't it bad to _kiss_ on the first date though? Hell, we haven't even had our first date yet."

"Sheeeit, screw that. I'm horny," Jessie playfully blurted out and gently squeezed the tip of him.

Cloud had to laugh; relieved this nerdy tomboy was as much a victim to raging hormones as he was. He kissed her again. Then he softly ordered into her ear, "Take a deep breath."

Jessie obeyed. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as he slipped a long finger inside. Her thighs squeezed together. Pressing the foreign digit deeper into her, she muttered, "Damn…"

Cloud regretted not buying a pack of condoms like he told himself to today. He would for tomorrow's date. _Definitely._ Still, he enjoyed watching all the tiny facial reactions Jessie made to his touches; the eyes rolled back and mouth hot with saliva. It kept him hard.

_Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._

That damn buzzing sound. It caused the girl to pause and look at Cloud. "What is that?"

"Mmm, caller…" he mumbled back. Cloud dismissed it and gently stuck another finger in Jessie instead. She instantly gasped.

Teenage sexual demands were the stuff of neediness, impatience, and ultimate gratification. It didn't take long for Jessie to grind against the two digits embedded in her. The mattress squeaked as she picked up speed. Cloud watched her skin turn brighter and gloss with sweat. She looked incredible. He hoped after he got Jessie off she would do the same for him. Perhaps with a good mouth job.

_Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz._

Jessie's sweat-coated face slowly drew into a frown. As the PHS continued to buzz, she caught her breath and demanded, "Who keeps calling you?"

Jessie sounded annoyed by the persistent calls. She'd no doubt felt the phone buzz throughout their bike lesson earlier. Cloud sighed. With his free hand, he grabbed his PHS and checked the ID.

It was the same caller with the unrecognizable number. Strange. Being the anti-social butterfly that he was, Cloud didn't share his number outside of his small inner circle. He hoped this wasn't his stupid boss calling him from another phone, asking him to come into work on his day off. Cloud was tempted to ignore the caller if that turned out to be the case. Then he realized the nonstop buzzing was killing the mood for Jessie. She rubbed her slimy crotch against the tips of his fingers but hesitated to do anything else now. At this rate, she'd never come. And neither would he. Deciding to put an end to this nuisance once and for all, Cloud flipped opened his PHS with his free hand.

"What the hell do you want?" he instantly barked, expecting either Mr. Mukki or a telemarketer.

"_Hello to you too, Strife_," a deep and smooth voice came from the other line. It belonged to a man. A soft-sounding chuckle followed after. "_Caught you in a bad time, have I?_"

Cloud instantly froze. His skin crawled with a thousand tiny bumps. That voice… He heard that voice before. Cloud's own sound was no more than a whisper when he uttered back, "…Who are you?"

"_Don't you know? You sought me out._"

Blinking only once, Cloud felt like he _should_ know. He'd heard this man's voice before but didn't know from where. For whatever reason, he thought about starry green eyes.

"_Essai provided me your information_," continued the man. "_You are a hard man to reach, Strife._"

_Essai_. That name rang a bell. Cloud finally recalled it from the website had visited earlier today. LOVELESS. This explained how the caller got his number. The man on the phone was likely a Host then.

From what Essai mentioned, Sephiroth was slated to contact him within twenty-four hours. The person Cloud spoke to right now, however, wasn't the child. Did Essai mix up the Hosts and give his information to the wrong one? This still didn't explain why the voice on the line sounded so familiar though…

Beside Cloud, Jessie noticed the abrupt change in his demeanor and placed a hand on his cheek. Her face contorted into a puzzled expression. He noticed it and offered an awkward reassuring smile. While Cloud was eager to know who the man on the other line was, he also did not want to be an asshole to Jessie. He kissed the side of her neck; his palm lightly rubbing the mound between her legs. The mechanic briefly closed her eyes and hummed to herself. It was clear she still wanted to fool around. So did him. When Jessie opened her eyes again, though, she got off the bed and headed to the bathroom to wash up, giving him and the caller space.

"I still don't know who you are…" Cloud quietly admitted to the caller after she left. He numbly stared at his fingers, all coated with Jessie's juices. "I recognize your voice but…" His voice drifted to silence.

"_Very curious_," remarked the other man, "_I cannot say I am not disappointed by that._"

"What do you mean?"

"_We've met in person._" There was a pause. "_Several times, in fact._"

"When? Where?" Cloud wiped his fingers against his jeans. "How do I know you?"

"_You really don't remember me. Do you, boy?_"

Again, that sense of familiarity hit Cloud like a boulder. It came when the man in question referred to him as _boy_. Green eyes hidden by meshed black fabric suddenly flickered on and off again at the back of Cloud's mind. His flustered self stiffened at the mental image of it. Those green eyes… They were a fragment of some bizarre dream; a dream he could not recall or understand.

Amusement and mild annoyance played in the man's voice as he said, _"I should not be surprised. Your levels of intoxication were exponentially high that night_. _You likely suffered some memory loss._"

Cloud pushed off the wall he'd leaned against and sat straighter; fully alert now. _Memory loss_? At first, he had no idea what this man was talking about. But then he realized… "My birthday. You're talking about the night of my birthday?"

"_That is correct, Strife._"

Cloud held the phone closer to his ear. The man was there? At his birthday celebration? This just got even _more_ interesting. He recalled how drunk he was; how he had passed out after the party. But to this day, he could not recollect what he did beyond dancing with Ele' and blowing out his candles. Cloud had a strong feeling he'd met the man on the phone though. It would explain why he sounded recognizable. But then… why couldn't he put a face to the man's voice? Each time Cloud tried, he drew a blank. He saw only black.

"I passed out, you know," the boy later confessed, feeling the need to explain himself to a man who somehow knew his last name. "I, uh, don't remember much. Did you hang out with me that night?"

At first, the line went silent. Cloud hoped to gather more clues about last weekend from this guy. Something major had happened that night; something incredible. But he couldn't remember what it was. It annoyed Cloud not to know. As he waited for the man to speak again, the silence lingered on for too damn long. Cloud thought his PHS might have lost the signal. Before he could check his phone, a soft laugh soon emerged from the other line. Its lovely low-pitched baritone sound reached deep into his ears. Cloud held his breath and felt his skin go warm.

"_Ah, this all makes sense now_," the man expressed at last, "_You must've blacked out after the fight. Hm, that does make our arrangement even more… intriguing._"

"Our arrangement?" Both brows pulled downward when Cloud suddenly added, "Wait a minute – _fight?_ You know about the fight I got into that night?"

Consequently, Cloud's encounter with the silver-haired child yesterday regained _some_ memories of the disastrous events that followed after his birthday party. He was positive there was no one else present during his scuffle. It was only him, the child, the old man, and the two goons. Of course, there remained a few mental gaps in his head. Someone else could have theoretically been present. But he doubted it.

"_I want to see you tonight_,_ boy; right now_," was all the caller said, ignoring his questions. "_By then, things should become clearer to you._"

This man conveyed enough directness in his words that it left no room for debate. Cloud sucked in air. He admittedly wanted the same thing. This guy knew what had happened last weekend. His alluring voice also inspired all sorts of strange feelings within Cloud, feelings he couldn't place, yet grew curious over. There was no question about it: he needed to meet him. If anything, he wanted to see his face.

"_Arrive at Gate 2 of Sector 3's train platform by seven. I will arrange for transportation to pick you up from there._"

"W-wait," Cloud began, "Tonight? You want to meet tonight?"

"_Will that be a problem?_"

The sharp tone in the man's question was not lost on Cloud. He frowned. "No, but… Who are you? You still haven't told me your name."

"_A petty query, boy. You've already figured out the answer to that riddle._"

"I… did?"

_"Seven o' clock at Gate 2_," the man only confirmed back, "_I will see you soon._" _Click_.

A dead dial-tone rang.

This felt… _surreal_. Breathing slowly, Cloud rose to his feet from the bed and blankly stared at his PHS. He couldn't make sense of the man's words. The only _riddle_ he solved was the name of the silver-haired boy. As Cloud thought about him, he noted an uncanny similarity between the child and the man on the phone, particularly their mannerisms. Both operated under the same direct enigmatic approach, neither saying more than necessary.

Shutting his phone, the anxious teen checked his watch. He needed to make it to the Plate by seven. However, his eyes widened when his clock showed 6:35PM on the face. He had just ten minutes to catch his train in order to make it on time for the meeting. This didn't leave him room to shower and change. Shit.

Grabbing the jacket he'd ditched on the bed and closing his laptop, Cloud hurried to leave. He was too distracted by the train's schedule that he nearly missed the girl that emerged from his bathroom.

Jessie stepped out, zipped up. A fresh smile settled across her face but soon vanished when she found Cloud slipping on his jacket and gloves. "H-hey, is everything okay?"

Cloud stopped on his tracks, suddenly remembering he still had a girl in his apartment. That nagging inner voice of conscience scolded him. It immediately wanted to slap him for forgetting about Jessie. Cloud's shoulders slightly slouched. His fingers idly played with the zipper of his jacket while he worked his mouth to speak again.

"I, uh, need to go right now… Something came up."

Jessie took another step forward. "What's wrong?"

Cloud paused. He debated on whether to tell her the truth. Even when Hosts freely operated in Midgar, it was still considered a social taboo to see one. It reeked of desperation and naughtiness. Cloud didn't want Jessie to get any funny ideas if she found out about him visiting a Host tonight – a male one at that. It wasn't like he sought the company of a hired _boyfriend_ over her anyway. He simply wanted to meet this man and know what had happened at his birthday party last weekend.

"That asshole, Mr. Mukki, wants me to come in," Cloud finally muttered. His eyes lingered to some random object in view; anything to avoid meeting Jessie's gaze.

The mechanic slowly nodded in understanding. Her head cocked to one side as she later asked, "Aren't you going to change into your uniform?"

Cloud winced, feeling put on the spotlight again. He deflected with another excuse. "There's no time to change. I got less than ten minutes to catch my train. I have a spare uniform in my locker anyway."

"I can drop you off at the Plate through the service tunnel," Jessie offered.

"Actually, um, if you can drop me off at the train station here that would be great." Cloud's eyes barely reached hers when he said that. He didn't want her to drop him above the Plate and learn he wasn't actually headed to work. Shaking his head, Cloud sighed and quickly added, "Sorry this came up… I wouldn't go if this wasn't important. I'll make it up to you."

The next step Jessie took brought their faces inches closer. She reached out and intertwined two fingers with a lock of blond hair. "We'll continue where we left off tomorrow, right?"

Cloud licked his lips and nodded. This time he looked Jessie right in the eye. "Yeah."

It was a promise. Cloud didn't plan for today's events to happen this way. Nonetheless, he wanted to take responsibility and make things right for Jessie. He would try to show her a good time tomorrow during their date. Everything was already set, from where they'd eat dinner to the tickets. It was going to be a fun night of _LOVELESS_ potentially followed by another raunchy make-out session. Gods willing.

Cloud actually looked forward to it. For the unruly country boy of Nibelheim, it was a good thing this was happening with a girl and not a guy. Kyle had filled his head with all sorts of strange thoughts and sensations for the past week or so. Cloud had nothing against it. The thought of being with a guy wasn't as bad as he thought it would be either. But he still didn't think it was for him. The time he spent with Jessie today rekindled his desire for a woman. That would be enough for him.

Right?

Ultimately, Cloud passed off any sexual curiosities he shared over the past week as a weird experimental phase in his life. It was typical for boys his age anyway. As Jessie followed him out the door, Cloud kept this in mind. He told himself the Host he was going to see was nothing more than a hired boyfriend – a man who made his living faking love. The Host apparently knew him but might attempt to use knowledge of his birthday event to sucker Gil him out of him. Cloud was determined not to fall for it. He would not be like those countless idiots who were stupid enough to fall in love with a Host.


	18. LOVELESS

**Author's Note:** _ The chapter where Zack's taste in cars leaves much to desire…_

* * *

CHAPTER 17: LOVELESS

The moon was fully out by the time the train made its stop at Sector 3's platform. Cloud stumbled forward as soon as the doors parted for him. Sweat coated his pale face. The moment he located the nearest disposal unit, he bent over and emptied out his stomach's contents in it. Cloud didn't care for the pair of high-classed old ladies nearby who flinched back and gasped. They covered their eyes and wobbled away in horror.

Cloud cursed at himself for forgetting to take his motion sickness meds. His trip to the Plate had been so last minute he didn't have time to think about it, not until he rode halfway up the track with a serious case of nausea. It'd take the maintenance crew at least a day to clean up the mess he left behind in the train. A few more purges and Cloud's stomach settled down at last. He coughed and spat. The bitter acidic aftertaste of today's lunch stayed on his tongue even after he finally pulled away from the trash bin. With whatever energy left in his body, he hurried to Gate 2.

Cloud wasn't sure what or _who_ to expect. The mysterious man he'd spoken with on the phone only mentioned that transportation would be arranged for him and to meet at Gate 2 by seven. All other information was left to his imagination. Did his pick-up party even know what he looked like? For that matter, how would _he_ recognize _them_?

As Cloud arrived at Gate 2, he glanced at his watch. It was 6:58PM – perfect timing. He had two minutes to spare. Keeping an eye out for anyone worth note, Cloud stood by the vending machines to avoid the main path. The train station buzzed with people ready to conquer the city tonight. Many wore their heavy coats to battle tonight's low temperatures. Cloud had only his collared biker jacket and jeans to keep him warm. It was enough for a boy who'd been raised in worse conditions than this.

At the high center of the station, there hovered three large hologram screens that broadcasted the news and current train schedules. A bell chimed from one of them and caught Cloud's attention. _On the Plate_ was on. Midgar City's popular gossip channel featured an image of Weiss the Immaculate onscreen.

"_Rejoice fan boys and fan girls! Weiss of the Tsviets is slated to be making a rare public appearance at the upcoming Winter Festival_," revealed a young female reporter with curly pink hair. "_He will be accompanying President Shinra and General Heidegger in the opening ceremony this week._

"_Weiss has remained under the radar since his return from Wutai. The elusive Tsviet had previously spent four months at the land of the Leviathan in an effort to diffuse the situation related to the mako reactor construction there. While tension from protestors and rebels alike continue to escalate, President Shinra has reassured the public in a recent interview that current operations are underway to bring about a swift resolution._"

The image of Weiss disappeared and now the camera panned to a full-on shot of the female reporter.

"_As the Tsviets enjoy their time back home, wild rumors continue to circulate around Weiss. An anonymous source claims our sword-wielding hero had recently gotten into a nasty scuffle over a 'love interest'. The alleged fight happened last week and involved another potential suitor. This suitor was left castrated and paralyzed by the end of the ordeal. According to this anonymous source, Weiss is 'a highly competitive individual who will get what he wants – by force if necessary'_."

The camera shifted right to show a male reporter sitting close by. He gave a hearty laugh. "_Oh my!_ _What shocking news, Pamela! And this isn't the first time we've heard stories of Weiss' foul temper._"

The woman bobbed her head. "_Right, Jerry, we've also heard he's extremely overprotective of his young brother, Nero. Some have even suggested their close-knit relationship borders toward the taboo._"

"_Oh my!_"

"_When asked if these rumors harbored any truth, Shinra's Public Relations Officer had this to say: 'The allegations toward our beloved hero are the work of low-quality fantasy, all written by disrespectful and disillusioned juvenile minds'_. _Currently, no hospital records have confirmed the latest rumor._"

The male reporter turned his attention to the camera. "_We'll keep an eye out for any forthcoming gossip news on our hero. But for now, a commercial break._"

The female male reporter sported a broad fake smile and ended the segment with, "_Coming up next! A scandalous nude photo spread of Shinra's Weapons Development Director, Scarlett! Hear why she did it._"

"_Oh my!_"

The bells chimed again and the infamous Chocobo Chow commercial ran onscreen. Cloud tuned it out and checked his PHS inbox.

A subscriber to Weiss' online fan club, he had heard all these crazy rumors before but didn't care for them. His interests rested on the man's grand adventures and victories. Several times he had emailed his idol. Of the fifteen messages sent to Weiss's public address, though, Cloud received only a five-Gil off coupon at Shinra's Merchandise Shop. The public representative that sent him that lousy coupon likely got annoyed by his persistence and wanted him to go away. It was just as well; he was a nobody.

Cloud left that depressing thought alone and flipped his phone shut. Checking the time on its cover again, it was now 7:04PM. He looked left to right. No one approached him yet. Worried he may have either misheard the man on the phone or stood at a blind spot, Cloud took several steps forward. His eyes focused on anyone who appeared lost. Everyone walked around him, oblivious to his existence.

Perhaps this was a mistake after all. Online, LOVELESS looked very chic. Cloud had never gone to a trendy place like that before. This would be his first time in a Host club. However, those impressive photos he saw online could've easily been the result of a talented photographer with good editing skills. For all he knew, LOVELESS existed in some rutty basement of some whore house.

The only reason why Cloud had agreed to any of this was because of the Host he spoke to on the phone. His deep velvet voice tugged the strings of many unclaimed memories. He knew what had happened during his birthday party last weekend. Cloud hoped the man would explain the events that had transpired before his black-out. Waiting for him at LOVELESS was also another Host Cloud wanted to visit: the silver-haired child known as _Sephiroth_.

As 7:10PM rolled in, Cloud found himself still without an escort. He couldn't decide on whether to forget the whole damn thing or call the Host back to report the delay. Instead, Cloud opted to purchase a beverage from the vending machine to rinse out the sour-like taste still in his mouth. He'd think on what to do after his drink.

Scanning his wrist's barcode tattoo, Cloud selected an orange-punch beverage. The vending machine accepted his Gil and whirled to life. A coiled mechanism pulled at his drink from the top row but stopped before releasing it. It was stuck.

"Damn it," Cloud blurted to himself. He kicked at the glass to force it down. His drink didn't budge.

With a growl, Cloud was ready to shake the whole machine with his bare hands. A young man with raven-black hair suddenly appeared beside him. He tapped on the glass with two fingers. Instantly, all the orange drinks from the top row tumbled down.

"Whoospie," the boy muttered with a snicker. "Must've used a bit more force than I wanted to…"

Cloud blinked in surprise. He stared at this peculiarly strong boy and discovered he recognized him. It was the same guy who rode off with the silver-haired child last weekend.

"Sorry for being late. I needed to take a major dump – man, monster burritos should be outlawed." The boy bent down to collect as many orange sodas he could grab from the vending machine. He offered one to Cloud. "The name's Zack Fair. I'm one of the Hosts from LOVELESS."

His jaw gone slack, Cloud struggled to talk. He didn't know where to begin. With him being a Host? Or with him being terribly candid? Slowly, Cloud murmured back, "You're… my pick-up party?"

"Bingo."

Cloud eyed him carefully. The young man certainly looked the part of a Host. Zack wore a bold black-and-white striped shirt and a sharp duster coat. Red-dyed denim jeans hugged his legs while a large chauffeur hat, slanted sideways, rested over his wild blue-streaked black hair. Bright blue eyes gleamed as they stood face-to-face. Their strange glow slightly caught Cloud off guard.

"You're Cloud Strife, huh?" Zack wanted to confirm.

Cloud nodded. He watched Zack shove at least ten soda cans into his coat's pockets and wondered if he was a hoarder or a man with a serious sweet tooth.

"_Cloud_ and _Strife_…" Zack repeated to himself. He smiled. "Damn, I hope your middle name isn't _Misery_."

Cloud resisted the urge to roll his eyes and popped open his soda instead.

"The party wagon is at the lot," Zack informed as soon as the beverages in his coat's pockets were secured. He twirled a set of flashy keys on his fingers now. "Follow me and try to keep up."

That last part sounded like a challenge. Before Cloud could take a sip of his drink, Zack was already on the move. His dark shape navigated through the busy crowd of the train station.

For Cloud, it was hard to stay focused with so many bodies rushing back and forth around him. Lights from nearby directional signs flashed. Multiple voices and laughter overlapped. High-pitched melodies played. Cloud bumped shoulders with practically everyone he came across. In contrast, the Host stayed fast and light on his feet. Zack seemed to anticipate the direction of other people's movements and reacted accordingly. It was like a dance to him. Cloud had to double his pace to keep him in his sights.

At some point Cloud lost Zack. His eyes darted left to right to find him again but everything became a blur. The world spun in circles and the people in it kept moving faster. Feeling overwhelmed, Cloud lost his balance. He accidentally spilled his drink on a big bearded guy. The man growled and pulled back a ready fist. Cloud abruptly felt his body yanked away before any contact was made.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again, you know," Zack casually spoke as he pulled Cloud to safety. He stayed by his side and offhandedly remarked, "He must be out of his damn mind to get you on his list."

"_He?_" Cloud grunted as he pushed through two people.

"Sephiroth – the Host who invited you." Zack sighed. "Of course, Sephiroth isn't your typical man. He does whatever the hell he wants."

"You mean child."

Zack glanced at him. One brow rose.

"You referred to Sephiroth as a _man_ just now," Cloud pointed out. "Don't you mean _child_?"

A grin suddenly formed on Zack's mouth. "Heh, whatever you say, Sunshine…"

Both of them trekked through the crowd until they made it to an exit. A flight of stairs led to an opened parking lot outside. The chilly air blew hard as Zack escorted Cloud further out. An elevated place, the Plate always drew in some powerful winds. The blond-haired teen huddled in his biker jacket and continued to trail after the Host. As they walked further and further away from the train station, he wondered why the Host hadn't parked closer. There was available space everywhere.

Five minutes later, they arrived at an isolated location. Cloud spotted an elongated black-coated vintage model parked by a water fountain. Music thumped from it. He stood in front of Zack's _party wagon_ and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. When he turned to the Host beside him, Cloud wondered if this was a sick joke.

"Pretty awesome, huh?" Zack grinned and tapped on the roof of his Hearse.

"Please tell me you got this from a car dealership and not from a funeral home…" Cloud griped as his eyes took in the shape of a car traditionally used to transport the dead.

"Hey, don't judge. I made some modifications on it. It has great mileage and plenty of space."

"I bet it has plenty of _space_…"

The fact Zack didn't deny he got the car from a funeral home should've worried Cloud. He later noticed a highly polished carburetor scoop stick out of the hood; a clear indication there was a shit-ton of power running in this car. _Modifications_, huh? With ornate exhaust pipes and blown engines, he wondered if this machine of death was illegal according to Midgar's transportation standards.

Zack approached the rear hatch of his ride. As soon as he opened it, the muffled electro beats that played inside sounded clearer and louder. Cloud froze when he discovered a silver coffin there.

"We're already late so let's hurry," Zack said and nodded at the long terrible object. "Get inside."

Cloud's mouth dropped. "Uh… _what?_"

"I want you to get inside the coffin."

Cloud took a step back. "_What the hell for?_"

"You _scared?_" Zack teased.

"I'm not getting inside a damn coffin. _So_ not interested." Cloud was already turning away when he spat, "I'm going home."

"It's one of our policies to keep the location of our club a secret, including from our clients," the Host explained. He readjusted his hat and mentioned, "There are a _lot_ of people who want to know our whereabouts. This is our way of dealing with that."

Cloud stayed tight-lipped. He didn't doubt this was an effective way to reinforce the club's secrecy clause. But that didn't mean he had to agree with it.

"If you wanna head home, fine," continued Zack. "I'll tell Sephiroth you changed your mind. You should head back to your world anyway and forget this whole thing ever happened."

Cloud stopped walking. He slowly turned around to face Zack again. Contemplating over his words, he rejected the idea of going back to _his world_. He knew what waited for him back there: nothing.

"Well?" Zack started again. "Are you coming or not?"

Reluctant to leave just yet, Cloud took a peek inside the Hearse through its opened hatch. Zack certainly made plenty of modifications in his Hearse. The back had been converted into a chic velvet area. There were two long rows of purple leathered seats facing each other; the coffin placed between them. Glassed bottles filled the mini bar at the back. Dark curtains draped over the windows to ensure privacy.

Cloud bit into his lower lip. This wasn't how he'd imagined his first visit to a Host club to be like. _Placed inside a fucking coffin?_ It was downright disturbing. And yet, he couldn't back out now. He'd made up his mind. He wanted to meet the man he spoke to on the phone and see Sephiroth. Sucking in the cold air through parted lips, Cloud forced his feet to work and re-approached the Hearse without a word.

Having witnessed Cloud change his mind, Zack slipped inside the car first. He unlatched the coffin's bolts. The lid whined as he lifted it. Cloud observed the velvet cushioned space there and took a deep breath. For all he knew, Zack was a serial killer who buried his victims alive at some undisclosed location. Tonight could be his last living moments. Cloud pushed the unsettling thought aside as he got into the coffin. His heart thumped a beat faster. He never considered his own mortality until now. Trying to stay calm, Cloud lay on his back and looked up at Zack.

"See you on the other side, Sunshine." Zack's low-sounding voice was almost lost to the music. The Host winked at Cloud and then closed the coffin.

Darkness. Trapped inside an enclosed dark abyss, the cheerful beats of a song provided a sharp contrast to the gloom Cloud felt right now. His eyes were wide opened but all he saw was black. One hand reached into his back pocket to pull out the PHS. He used it to offer some light into his compact space. Even with enough room to move around, he still felt confined. Fingers clutched onto the device in his hands. Despite telling himself there was nothing to worry about, the temptation to make an immediate escape crossed his mind. Cloud tested the lid with both hands. He sighed when it didn't budge. Damn; Zack must've secured the latches. Holding his breath, he hoped he didn't run out of air.

Moments passed before the car roared to life. It was followed by Zack's voice. "_Let's roll!_"

Cloud didn't have time to prepare himself. The coffin violently jerked backward as the car took off at a high speed. The tires shrieked. Cloud's body slammed to the left on a turn. He grunted when he nearly let go of his PHS. Its light bounced everywhere. Gripping it, he prayed he'd make it out of this alive.

"_Ah, just look at that beautiful moon!_" he heard Zack again. He sounded excited. "_You're from the Slums, right? I bet you can't see it from down there. That blows. I'd go bat-shit crazy if I couldn't see the moon every night._"

But Zack was _already_ bat-shit crazy, Cloud thought. The man must've been going at a ridiculous speed since the engine's roar was as loud as the music. Seconds later, there was another change in direction. Like a ragged doll, Cloud's body flung back and forth inside the coffin. His heart pounded against his chest when he heard multiple cars suddenly honk from all directions.

"_Whoa. Whoopsie! My bad. Wrong way on the one-way…_"

"_What?_" Cloud yelled back. His fingers clawed at whatever he could latch onto to keep steady. "W-what's going on out there? Y-you can drive, right?"

"_Of course I can,_" Zack testified. A second later, the Host slammed on the brakes. "_Damn. That guy must've come outta nowhere…_"

Cloud placed a hand over his mouth; he'd nearly puked.

"_You doing okay in there?_"

The car was in motion again. Cloud gritted his teeth while his stomach twisted and turned. He feared he'd have another violent episode inside the tightly compact space. Frustrated, he barked back, "I suffer from motion sickness. If I puke in your ride it'll be _your_ fault. You're driving like a maniac!"

"_Relax. I'll have you know I only hit one thing today. But it wasn't my fault. That dumpster ran into _me_._"

Inside the coffin, Cloud kept his mouth shut.

He had no idea where they were going or how long it would take. Were they northbound? West? As the music thumped all around him, there was no way to determine their current route by audio. They could be anywhere. An idea soon struck Cloud. He quickly checked the GPS on his phone. Its signal would surely indicate where he was on the map of Midgar. But to his horror he got no reception. Electrical interference prevented him from receiving or sending out information. Cloud suspected the coffin had something to do with that. _Fuck_.

Again, his overactive imagination played tricks in his head. Cloud hoped they were headed to the club and not some shady burial site. He also hoped they got there soon. His stomach wanted to explode.

Within fifteen minutes, Cloud felt the car ascend – a ramp? He could only guess they were on a highway now. Zack had picked up a lot more speed. As if that was fucking possible. Cloud suddenly heard the other boy's phone go off. The car's loud music and enclosed space made it difficult to hear the conversation, but he managed to pick up a few words whenever Zack raised his voice and laughed.

"_Yeah, we're running late. My bad; I had to take a_…" His voice faded into the music. When Cloud picked him up again, Zack sounded annoyed. "_I told Se… I'd get his… there in one piece, but getting… on time? That's another story. Things are gonna get… though. He's expecting a _kid_, not him…_"

Zack's voice went out of hearing range. Cloud inwardly cursed. Clueless over where they were headed, a sense of anxiety and impatience prompted him to test the locks of the coffin one more time. _Thump-thump-thump_. Still no luck. He couldn't get out. Lying on his back, Cloud felt powerless.

Cloud wished he could text-message Jessie, Kyle, or Ele'. Anyone, really. He regretted getting into this without leaving a trace of his whereabouts. The city already grew uneasy from the recent corpse count. Would he join that number? With no signal, Cloud doubted texting someone would've helped him anyway. What would he type? _Hey, I was stupid enough to get inside someone's coffin. Now I'm headed to a secluded underground place where I'll likely die. Get help. Kthxbye._

At some point, Cloud heard the Host again. This time Zack spoke in an exasperated tone.

"_Are you serious? That's the first I've heard of… I'll keep an eye out for… tonight._ _Does Se…roth know? Maybe it's not a good… to bring Cloud… tonight._" The mention of his name caused Cloud to lie very still. He focused on Zack's next words. "_That creep has been wanting… get inside his pants since forever… If… sees Se... with his new doll… might have a shit-fest and… off his balls._"

The rest of the conversation became too inaudible to hear. Whatever conversation Zack was having sounded intense. _Shit-fest? Balls?_ Cloud wondered what the hell he just got himself into.

In his velvet-made prison, the cheesy upbeat song continued to ring loudly in his ears. Zack ended his conversation shortly and Cloud felt the car descend. They slowed down in speed and stayed on the same path for another five minutes until Zack made a series of turns. The car finally came to a stop.

"_All righty, we walk from here_," Zack announced after he cut off the engine and music.

Quiet, Cloud heard a door open and close. A low-sounding horn blew from a far distance along with a non-stop beeping noise. Where were they? Staying very still in his coffin, Cloud kept both hands clasped around his PHS. It was as if the device kept him rooted to his sanity. Another door opened – the hatch. Cloud could hear the heavy thud of boots outside his coffin. It was followed by the metal clanging of undone bolts. The coffin's lid finally lifted and Zack's face reappeared.

"Good: you're still in one piece."

More or less, Cloud wanted to gripe back. Making an audible exhale, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until now. Zack helped him out of the coffin.

As soon as they exited the vehicle, Cloud collected himself. His arms were bruised from the rough ride and the queasy sensation in his stomach hadn't settled down yet. Leaning against the Hearse for support, he took steady breaths while his blue eyes took in the new scenery.

Cloud was admittedly relieved they weren't in a cemetery. Instead, they'd stopped at the back alley of a massive seven storied structure. It was made of concrete and metal. All the elongated glassed windows contained bars on them. A strange smell lingered in the air. It reminded Cloud of uncooked Chocobo patties. The beeping sound he'd heard earlier caught his attention again. It redirected his eyes to the telltale-lights of cranes in the distance. This didn't look like the Entertainment District. They were at another sector. But which one?

"Sorry, but cellphones are prohibited inside the club," Zack suddenly said. His eyes were locked on the phone still in Cloud's grip. "I'll have to collect it right now. But don't worry, I'll return it to you later."

As Cloud handed it over, he wondered why the Host hadn't taken it from him earlier. It was likely forgetfulness on his part – Zack was an oddball. Then again, maybe the young Host didn't want to keep him in the dark for too long, not without a source of light?

"Let's go. We're not far from the club." Zack headed to an opened shutter entry straight ahead.

Cloud's blue eyes intensified. The Nibelheim native stood at full height and licked over his dried lips. He followed the Host into the large building, curious of what he'd find inside.

* * *

The opened layout provided an impressive upward view of the factory's seven stories. Cloud observed a chaotic pattern of metal cross beams from where he stood. Multiple operations were underway in the factory. Evening-shift workers traveled across meshed platforms to conduct their business. Some talked too fast in their native languages to be understood. Donned in their cheap gray overalls with plastic robes, none appeared alarmed by the two men that entered their premises. Cloud winced at the sight of smeared red on their plastic robes. The copper stench of blood smelled notably in the air.

Rubbing his nose, the teen discovered several large disposal containers against a wall a few feet away. They were flooded with oversized plastic bags that dripped with blood. Discarded rotten meat, Cloud realized. This was… a meat factory? They were at a _meat_ factory?

Cloud suddenly felt like a sacrificial lamb ready for the slaughter.

"It was Sephiroth's idea we set up shop here," Zack mentioned aloud, as if knowing the wayward thoughts of the other boy. Or perhaps he simply read the expression on Cloud's face. "It's worked out great for us so far. No one ever thinks to find a Host club in a place like this…"

Very true; Cloud never imagined a Host club being housed in a meat factory. This meant they were somewhere in Midgar's loading docks. All warehouses and factories were stationed in this sector. It was impossible to determine which building harbored LOVELESS though. There must have been more than one meat factory in the area.

"I'll be honest," resumed the Host, "Our group may be freaks of nature who dwell in Midgar's underbelly during ungodly hours, but we don't bite. At least I don't. That's not my specialty." Zack chuckled and turned to Cloud. "Out of curiosity, why do you want to see Sephiroth?"

Cloud met the other boy's gaze but was reluctant to answer his question.

"Sephiroth is an intense guy…" Zack admitted and trekked through the factory, speaking over the heavy machinery sounds. "He's tuned to a different frequency altogether."

"Will he be at the club tonight?" Cloud piped up at last. "The kid never contacted me back."

"_The kid_..." Zack slowly repeated. A lopsided smile crossed his face. He apparently found something very funny but wouldn't say over what. Rather, he confirmed, "Yeah, _Sephiroth_ will be there. I'm taking you to see him right now."

Cloud faced Zack. He was under the impression the young Host came because of the man he talked to not long ago. Curious, he asked, "Do you know who I spoke to on the phone?"

"You'll find out soon enough…" was all Zack said. His brows arched evenly. "Cloud, I wasn't kidding when I said Sephiroth isn't like everyone else. Are you sure you want to see him?"

Cloud hadn't expected Zack to be that affront about another Host, especially one from the same club. He lowered his face and confessed, "I don't know. He invited me."

"So that's it? Some strange guy invites you to see him and you blindly come along for the ride?"

_Blindly?_ Cloud frowned. He didn't like the way Zack said that. Still, the raven-haired Host was right. He'd accepted Sephiroth's invitation even when he didn't know anything about him or what he wanted. No doubt, people would get the wrong idea about him visiting a child at a Host club. But the boy's words stuck with Cloud. Sephiroth had spoken many truths last night, truths he couldn't get out of his head.

"I didn't come to see Sephiroth out of a whim," Cloud clarified. "I came because I hate the way things are. I hate… everything."

They ascended a flight of stairs and crossed a walkway to reach the other side of the factory. Beside him, Zack glanced at his direction. "Why do you say that?"

The Nibelheim native knew it was an odd statement to make. Older adults typically associated remarks like that to teenage angst. But really, Cloud knew those words came from years living in grimy conditions and working seven-fifteen an hour for self-entitled assholes. He didn't know if Zack understood that though, not when he wore nice clothes, smelled nice, and carried himself like he owned the world.

Looking up from the platform they walked on, Cloud saw rows of meat in the process of being wrapped in plastic sheets. Hung by their hooks, they traveled down several chained belts that spanned across the factory's entire second floor. All followed along their set path.

"Some people are destined to soar and live in the sky as Gods; others like me are left to rot in the dirt as mortals," Cloud explained. When they reached the mid-point of the walkway, he observed the line of corpses above again and sighed. "The people on the Plate will never understand what I'm talking about. They get to live above the trash and order their vanilla lattes without ever batting an eye to the misery that goes on below. I think it's all fucked up."

Cloud stopped walking. He leaned against the railing of the walkway and propped his arms on it. His clear blue eyes now lingered to the assembly of factory workers. They continued wrapping the meat with plastic sheets; blank stares on their faces.

"_Am I sure I want to see Sephiroth?_" Cloud repeated Zack's last question. He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. Sure. I guess. Sephiroth is a weird kid. Maybe I am too for just _blindly_ tagging along. But given what I've seen so far? Experienced? He's the only person that makes any sense in this stupid world."

Zack joined Cloud by the railings. Initially, he seemed hesitant to speak but managed to mutter, "Well. At least I know _why_ Sephiroth chose you…"

Turning his head to the man beside him, Cloud wondered what he meant by that.

"But Sephiroth perceives the world in absolutes," Zack quickly added, "He can't see what I see."

"And what would that be?" Cloud challenged him.

"There's a girl I regularly see. She lives in the Slums too and is actually afraid of the sky." Zack removed his hat and loosened up his wild black hair with his fingers. "This girl has stayed in the darkness for _way_ too long; the thought of an opened world with light frightens her. And yet, she can't stay in the dark forever." The glimmer in Zack's blue eyes shined brighter when he added, "And neither can you, Cloud."

The other boy didn't move nor speak. Cynical by nature, Cloud always felt the world was run by jerks. They set the rules and tone for everyone and everything. Surprisingly, Zack wasn't one of them. He was… _different_. This baffled Cloud. He initially mistook the pretty boy as yet another indifferent byproduct of the Plate. But the more Zack talked, the more he proved otherwise. Cloud actually didn't mind his company.

Zack said nothing else. Neither did Cloud. They traveled east of the factory and arrived at a colder section. The workers continued to ignore them. None made eye contact and they all stayed out of their way, especially Zack's.

Entering a massive chamber now, there was a series of ten-foot-long walking freezers lined next to each other. A hefty metal door secured each one. Through a small peeping window, Cloud could see more meat hang in suspension by their hooks. Zack approached the seventh freezer and pulled down the door's hatch. A gush of chilly air spilled out.

Cloud remained by Zack's side as he observed several lined rows of frozen Chocobos. Their heads had been chopped off and fur ripped. All their inner workings were open for display, revealing only the raw essentials. Cloud found it obscene.

"You're not scared, are you?" Zack playfully jabbed at him.

Cloud met his gaze. "Should I be?"

Anyone else would've been disturbed by the sight of frozen animals. Cloud observed it only with regret. He'd hunted animals in his youth and now worked at a fast-food restaurant that constantly served this meat; he was used to the sight of dead things. However, Cloud found his days surviving the wrath of beasts as a hunter more honest work than his time serving cheap Chocobo burgers to the masses.

"Yeah, now I _definitely_ know why he chose you," Zack told Cloud, seeing something in his eyes.

The other boy chose not to make a comment.

Both ventured into the walking freezer and navigated their way through the rows of meat. When they reached the very end, Cloud saw a solid black-steel door with a card reader beside it. Zack pulled out a bright yellow keycard and slid it at its designated spot. An audible _click _sound was heard. It required only a twist and slight push. Cloud hesitated before setting foot into the next section.

"The Black Floor," Zack introduced.

An endless abyss of black, the Black Floor was the size of a parking lot with eleven-foot-high bare walls. Gone were the dead animals, smell of blood, noise of heavy machinery, and indifferent people. Instead, there was only silence and stillness in this seemingly empty space. It reminded Cloud of a Church. The lack of light forced his eyes to readjust themselves. Darkness dominated this place, save for a small circle of candles that clustered at the far end of the Black Floor. Cloud faintly picked up the scent of peppermint in the air.

Both boys made their way to the candles. Their footsteps echoed loudly against the glossy-black pavement. For Cloud, it was as if they were walking through the void. He could not see his feet in the blackness. An eerie feeling of finding something horrible in the void made him breathe faster. Cloud kept by Zack's side and quickened his pace, eager to draw closer to the tiny specks of light ahead.

The walk to the group of candles took only fifteen seconds, but for Cloud it felt longer. As they stood next to the burning candles on the ground, they encountered a wooden stand with a crimson leather book. It was currently closed. Not far from the book stand stood a seven-foot tall statue made of ebony stone. It guarded a staircase that led up to the next floor.

Cloud briefly studied the ebony statue of an imposing female warrior. With large wings spread wide, she held a blade in one hand and a fresh Banora apple in another. The Goddess. She represented one of many religious icons the people of Midgar City worshipped. Given her association with the epic literary work, Cloud wasn't surprised to find the champion of LOVELESS here. Standing proudly, the Goddess stared down at him with her penetrating, unblinking gaze.

"This is your contract," Zack broke the silence. He stood by the wooden stand with the book opened to a specific page. "The club requires both Sephiroth's and your signature. This will bind you to him." Zack turned to Cloud. The blue color in his eyes intensified under the candles' lights. "Sign it _after_ you got a feel for Sephiroth. Once this contract is completed, you can't change Hosts."

Next to Zack, Cloud read over the terms. Curious, he asked, "How many clients does Sephiroth have?"

"Five."

"Only five?"

"It doesn't sound like much, I know. Then again, Sephiroth is very picky about the clients he chooses. He can also _afford_ to be picky. A high-ranked Shinra officer, a top biomedical engineer, a politician, a chief justice, and an A-list film star… they're among his financial backers."

The details of Sephiroth's clients both surprised and disturbed Cloud. Not only did it still freak him out a kid that age had a clientele at all, but they served as noteworthy respectable citizens of Midgar. Had Sephiroth seen into their souls and extracted the burning questions and woes that plagued them too?

"Well-off folks…" Cloud noted. Looking away from his contract, he stood near the ebony statue. "I'm not rich, in case you haven't figured that out already. And to be honest, I've no idea why I'm here since I can barely afford my rent, let alone, a Host."

"I'm sure Sephiroth will negotiate with you. What that entails? I dunno. It's between you two. That aside, I have to warn you, his financial backers can be vultures." Zack slammed the book shut; its _thump_ echoed across the Black Floor. "They aggressively vie for his affections and have no problem playing dirty to get it."

Cloud scoffed. "Over a child? They're vying for the affections of a _child?_"

"Man, I should be keeping my big mouth shut," Zack muttered to himself. He removed one of the sodas in his pockets and took a long drink. "Sephiroth will gut me alive if he learns what I've told you."

"It's fine, Zack. I prefer your frankness. I deal with enough bullshit in my life." Cloud removed his gloves. He explored the statue's smooth cold surface with his bare fingertips while Zack addressed his concerns.

"It's just… I feel like I need to lay it to you straight, Cloud. If you're serious about having Sephiroth as your Host then you should know what you're getting into before you sign that contract. It's not just his peculiar ways you have to look out for, but everyone else's too. A lot of people go coo-coo over him."

Strange attracted strange, Cloud recalled. He was probably one of those _coo-coo_ people too. Even if his intentions to see Sephiroth came from idle curiosity, the boy's words left a strong impression on him. It was likely the same for the other clients too. Sephiroth's odd ways intrigued them all. He provided an escape from the daily rigors of this dark industrious city.

Zack didn't take his eyes away from Cloud as he drew closer to him. "You're not worried?"

"Worried?" Cloud broke away from his private thoughts and looked at him; confused.

"Over those vultures," Zack specified.

"Honestly? Not really."

"Huh. You must have big balls then."

Cloud stepped back from the Goddess statue. As the female warrior looked down at him, he narrowed his eyes. "You know, Zack, in all the years I've worked in Chocobo Chow I've come to realize one thing: no one gives a fuck about the guy behind the cash register."

Zack blinked.

"Those people you talk about – Sephiroth's clients? They're so high up that they can't see me below." Cloud showed a small smile. "I doubt they'll be threatened by a guy who flips patties for a living."

Zack guffawed, finally coming to the same realization Cloud had reached ages ago. Sure, Cloud hated his current place in the world. Lowly people like him were _invisible_. And yet, sometimes being invisible had its perks. No one perceived him as a threat and, therefore, no one ever saw him coming.

The Host finished his soda. He swapped the apple in the statue's hand with his empty can. Cloud suppressed a chuckle. He was sure that apple had been an offering to the Goddess. Now, it became Zack's snack. The unruly Host munched on his delicious treat as he led Cloud to the staircase nearby.

Beyond the stairs was a small narrow hallway. It directed them to another steel door; this time painted blue. Neon-lit words appeared above: _She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting_. Cloud remembered this corridor from the website's gallery. He also knew the words above the door came from LOVELESS. As he waited for Zack to pull out his keycard again, the non-stop bongs of drums and female vocals echoed from beyond the blue steel door. It didn't take long for Zack to swipe his card. With the path opened, both boys entered the first scene of LOVELESS.

"The Blue Floor," Zack practically yelled over the music and crowd.

Almost immediately, Cloud felt underdressed and unprepared. He gazed at the clientele of LOVELESS and marveled at the snugly fitted dresses and well-tailored suits they wore. Straight ahead, a female vocalist with green hair performed her jazzy tune on a massive blue-lit structure. Cloud had to spare a second look at that stage. An enormous, abstract construction of the Goddess's face towered behind it. Made with metal plates, bolts, cords, and neon lights, it looked like biomechanical nightmare and masterpiece.

"Impressive, huh?" Zack gave a nod at the structure. "Would you believe Sephiroth made that?"

Cloud recalled the photo of the porcelain doll. He could see the child's _handprint_ on this larger project.

"Sephiroth has a weird way of looking at the world. Whereas others look for the ideal, he kinda looks for… the strange." Zack frowned, momentarily lost in his train of thoughts. Then he flashed a smile and patted Cloud on the shoulder. "Let's check out the rest of the place."

Not accustomed to settings like this, Cloud didn't move from his spot right away. He glanced at the elegant metallic-laced blue carpet and instantly regretted wearing his dirt-soiled boots. It couldn't be helped though. He had to make do with what he had and not dwell on it. Suppressing his personal anxieties for the moment, Cloud took his first steps into the Blue Floor.

He might as well have entered a giant kaleidoscope of blue. Blue lights, reflections, and glitter… they danced everywhere. The lucrative amount of mirrors and glassed objects made it difficult to distinguish the real from the illusion. At times, Cloud bumped into a mirror wall. Zack laughed nearby; his hearty sound lost to the music. Reveling in all of its blue shiny glory, the Blue Floor proved ten times more impressive than the photos showed. Cloud knew this was the same lounge featured online. The sunburst-chandelier he saw at the website currently hung high above his head.

When Zack walked further into the Blue Floor, Cloud trailed behind and tried not to bump into anyone. The majority of the crowd thankfully congregated at the stage and danced. The remaining LOVELESS' occupants either swam in the nearby pools or took a spot on the blue cushioned couches.

Among the crowd were other Hosts. Intermingling with their clients, they each revealed the same bright blue searing eyes as Zack's. Their elegance and striking figures made Cloud even more self-aware of his shortcomings. He idly pulled out a loose thread from his jeans and developed a sudden urge to burn it.

"I feared the worst when I got inside your coffin," Cloud admitted later as he walked alongside Zack.

"Oh?" His escort chuckled. "That's not a surprise. People hear a lot of crazy things about our club."

"Like what?"

"Like how some Hosts don't tolerate irritating clients and will happily chop off their head and donate their parts to the meat factory." In a proud voice, Zack declared, "Thankfully, _I'm_ not like that. I'm a chilled kinda guy."

"That's still a crazy rumor though."

"Rumor?" Zack cocked a brow. "I never said those crazy things people heard were rumors. I only said _I'm_ not like that. I can't speak for the rest of my colleagues though."

The color on Cloud's face drained. He hoped Zack was only screwing with him.

His eyes glowing brighter, Zack snickered. Then he urged, "Follow me. I want to introduce you to one of the greatest men in the planet before taking you to see Sephiroth."

"But… what about the man I spoke to over the phone? He's expecting to see me too."

Zack didn't offer a reply. He merely smiled and lured him to the other side of the Blue Floor, to a bar elevated on a higher platform. Cloud momentarily stopped and stared at it with wide-opened eyes.

A massive blue tree stood sideways. It reached up to the ceiling. Various trinkets hung from its long wooden limbs – clock faces, mirrors, and chimes. High above, thick branches clustered and sheltered a large materia-looking orb. It pulsed with blue light. How the owners of LOVELESS managed to fit an incredibly big tree inside their club was beyond Cloud's understanding. He could only observe the organic structure of the bar with intrigue, finding it both eerie and beautiful. The counter, itself, had been situated inside its enormous hollowed base. A blue light radiated within it. It beckoned to Cloud.

Both boys approached a tall, broad-chested brunette-haired Host. He mixed drinks from behind the wooden counter. Sporting a white buttoned shirt and wooden choker, the handsome male displayed the perfect muscular body; not an ounce of unwanted fat on him.

As the Host looked up, Cloud recognized him. He'd seen this man before. Somewhere. A quick study of the Host's trimmed chin hair suddenly drew Cloud back to the night of his birthday party. This man had been there.

With the bar stools all taken, both boys remained standing. Zack showcased a wonderfully curved smile. "Hey-hey, Angeal! I'm heeeeere."

"You're also very late," Angeal promptly pointed out above the loud music.

Zack's face winced in exaggeration. "Ouch. Cut me some slack. It's better being late than never, right?"

Angeal raised a prominently shaped brow. With a mini blow-torch in hand, he lit up a drink and slid it to a nearby customer. His amused tone sounded apparent when he later asked, "Are you going to use that same excuse on Sephiroth too?"

Zack stood rigidly still.

A small smirk developed across Angeal's lips. He'd effectively shut up the younger Host real quick. When the tall man turned his attentions to Cloud next, his clear blue eyes did not waver from him. "Hm. So you're Sephiroth's new client…"

It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. Standing next to Zack, Cloud could only stare at the Host. Angeal's presence admittedly overwhelmed him. While he carried himself in a calm casual manner, he could stare down any man with just a glance.

"His name is Cloud," Zack announced to his friend, finding his voice again. "Cloud, this is Angeal."

Cloud nodded back a silent _hello_. The small gesture was repeated by the other man.

"Angeal is among our top-earning Hosts in LOVELESS," Zack flaunted, "You wouldn't know that, though, since he has a _terrible_ habit of hiding his ass behind the bar's counter or in the kitchen. For _shame_."

"Making food and serving drinks relaxes me," Angeal stated as matter-of-fact. He quickly poured a shot of green alcohol and passed it to another customer.

"And you?" Cloud had to ask Zack, "Are you a top-earning Host too?"

"Of course." Zack boasted a wide toothy smile. "I'm the best there ever is! I got a mile-long client list. Everyone asks for me." When Zack heard a snicker from Angeal's direction, he barked, "Hey, it's true!"

"Whatever you say, puppy," Angeal responded without missing a beat.

"_Angeal…_" Zack glared at him. "We went over this already: I'm _not_ a puppy."

"Yet you keep acting like one."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation again."

"Ditto."

"Now you're just messing with my head."

"Am I?"

"Angeal, I _swear_…"

Watching the two Hosts bicker back and forth like an old married couple was pure entertainment. Cloud quickly learned Zack depended on the volume of his voice to get the upper hand while Angeal preferred to choose his words carefully. No surprise the older man came out on top by the end of their ordeal. Cloud's face visibly brightened with color. It had been a long time since he felt this relaxed in the company of others. He usually hated socializing with strangers.

Zack was the first to withdraw from this war of words. He grumbled something under his breath. Then he glanced at Cloud. "Sorry about that. Angeal and I tend to drive each other bonkers from time to time. It's a toxic chemistry we share."

"I'm sure it is," Cloud commented back.

"How old are you, Cloud?" Angeal asked as he poured two bottles into a metal container. "Sephiroth never told me your age. You look very young."

"Seventeen."

The older man frowned. "You're too young for this kind of thing. Shouldn't you be dating girls your age instead of hanging out at underground Host clubs?"

"The child invited me to come," Cloud explained and met Angeal's eyes. "Besides, there're a few things I need to go over with him and the guy I spoke to over the phone."

Angeal put the bottles down and exchanged a long silent look with Zack. The younger Host shrugged his shoulders and stood with his eyes set downward.

Picking up the metal container, Angeal began to shake it. He sighed. "Cloud, I'm not sure how much Zack has told you about Sephiroth. However, if you intend on seeing him as your Host, you'll find many… _peculiar_ details about him. Don't freak out."

Frowning, Cloud had no idea what to make of that last part.

"Did Zack go over the contract with you?"

"_Of course_ I did," the young raven-haired boy piped up again, sounding offended by the question. "I also suggested he wait before signing it. Because. You know. It's _Sephiroth_…"

"We follow an honor system, Cloud," Angeal informed. "What goes on here stays here. Whatever terms you make between you and Sephiroth must also be honored." His thick brows arched low and evenly as he said, "I won't lie: I really hope this is just a one-time visit for you. You're much too young for this."

Still standing, Cloud crossed his arms and shifted the weight of his body to one side. _Too young?_

"I think Sephiroth overstepped his boundaries by taking in a boy your age," Angeal concluded. Spilling the mixed contents of the container into a glass, he stuck a slice of lime on it and sent it off.

Observing Angeal in a silent and unblinking gaze, Cloud wanted to point out he wasn't a _boy_; he was a young man. _Seventeen_ now. Sephiroth, on the other hand, was a child. A damn kid Host. If anyone deserved a fine lecture on age appropriateness it was _him_. Opening his mouth, Cloud was ready to make a comeback response. Zack interrupted him before he got the chance.

"I've only spent a short time with Cloud," Zack started, "but there's definitely something special about him. He's certainly more interesting than the others. Maybe Sephiroth sees this too? I don't know. But… what I _do_ know is that Cloud should be the one to determine if this is a good or bad idea. Not us."

Cloud turned to Zack, surprised he backed him up. Zack had previously preached the same concerns Angeal shared not long ago. But now he seemed willing to let things naturally unfold themselves. Cloud appreciated the gesture and showed Zack a small smile.

Behind the counter, Angeal didn't say a word. His eyes first studied Cloud before shifting to Zack. After a while of silence, the man bobbed his head and conceded. "Very well. I trust your judgment, Zack." To Cloud, he said, "Don't take Sephiroth lightly. He's a complicated individual."

A complicated _kid_, Cloud wanted to say but chose to keep his mouth shut.

"I'm going to take him to see Sephiroth now, Angeal," Zack announced. "Is he up on his floor?"

The other man brushed back his wavy black hair with a hand and simply told him, "He's here."

"Here? In the Blue Floor?" Zack momentarily got quiet. His eyes quickly glanced around the lounge. He growled. "Oh boy, that ain't good news… Where is he now?"

"Close."

"You're not helping, Angeal."

"Don't worry about finding him, puppy. Sephiroth will find you. In fact, I suspect he's been watching you two since you both arrived."

"Creepy. That guy never fails to send shivers up my spine…"

"I'll be sure to tell Sephiroth that when I see him."

"You're horrible sometimes, Angeal. You know that, right?"

Angeal conveyed an innocent smile. He turned to Cloud afterward. "Think about what I said, all right?"

Cloud only responded with a nod.

The Host said nothing else. Turning away, Angeal went to fetch a bottle from the shelves behind him. That must've been their cue to leave because Zack now tapped Cloud on the shoulder. It was time to find Sephiroth. Both boys pushed their way out of the bar's crowd.

As soon as they were a good distance from it, Zack spoke up again. "Sorry about that. Angeal is actually close with Sephiroth. He can be overprotective sometimes."

"Over Sephiroth?"

"Yes. But over you too."

Cloud snorted. "Why? Angeal doesn't even know me. He thinks I'm too _young_ for this."

"Well, you kinda _are_ the youngest client we've ever had in LOVELESS," Zack revealed. "It's only natural Angeal wants to look after your best interests. Consider him the resident Big Brother here. He gives _everyone_ lectures, especially me."

Envisioning how those moments went, Cloud nearly grinned.

As they crossed the seating section of the Blue Floor, Zack stopped walking. His eyes looked left to right again. Bitterly, he spat, "I've dicked around long enough. Heads will roll if I don't get you to Sephiroth soon; we are _sooo_ fucking late. I'll find him while you can stay put, eh?"

Cloud agreed with that plan. However, there wasn't any seating space available for him. All of the blue-velvet couches were occupied; the same for the pool side benches. After some serious scouting, Zack found an empty spot for Cloud and took him to a water fountain with a blue-stoned Goddess statue.

"Wait here. I'll get Sephiroth," the Host insisted.

Cloud approached the stone ledge of the water fountain to sit but glanced back at Zack. He wanted to express his gratitude; not only for getting Angeal off his back, but also for being great company. This entire trip to LOVELESS so far felt like a bizarre dream. At times, Cloud wanted to turn back. But Zack had stood by his side. He guided him to his destination.

Cloud tried to find the right words to say without it sounding fruity. In the end, he settled for a simple, to-the-point word: "Thanks."

"No problem," Zack replied and tilted his hat. "I'm sure you'll see me again if you decide to stick around. And for what it's worth, I think you might be the one to keep Sephiroth on his toes. He needs someone to not kiss his ass all the time."

A low sounding laugh sprouted from Cloud's mouth.

"Just remember what we talked about earlier. You can't stay in the dark forever, buddy. Okay?" Zack raised a fist and bumped it against Cloud's as a friendly parting gesture. "See ya."

Cloud hoped so. He watched Zack walk away and disappear into a sea of blues and moving bodies.

Sitting on the ledge of the fountain, Cloud waited at his designated spot. The fast beats of high pitched music played in the air. They followed the same rhythm of his heart. As a raw energy swept through the club, his eyes scanned the Blue Floor. The crowd of well-dressed pretty people continued to dance and socialize. To his dismay, a few drunken loud-mouthed clients found the fountain area to be a suitable place to sit as well. They nosily flopped themselves next to him. One intoxicated woman with a glittered-pink dress pointed and laughed at his wild blond hair. _Chocobo ass_, she said. He sneered at her.

So far, there was still no sign of the silver-haired child. Cloud's eyes discovered an interesting elevator several feet away though. Made of glassed doors, there was an ornate sign painted on it. A card reader appeared by its side. Every once in a while he saw a Host enter it with a client. Cloud recalled that the club had seven floors and suspected this elevator accessed all of them.

With nothing better to do than sit and wait, Cloud studied the statue of the Goddess behind him. It stood at the center of the water foundation and shared similar features to the black one he'd encountered not long ago. As streams of water jetted around the blue Goddess, Cloud's eyes drifted to the water collected. He saw his reflection and, to his surprise, a stone tablet below.

Underwater, the tablet sat at the base of the statue. Looking worn and aged, it contained a passage etched with many strange symbols. Cloud leaned closer to get a better look at it. He stopped midway when he noticed something peculiar in his reflection now.

Close by, the people at the water fountain quickly got up and walked away. The annoying woman who had mocked him actually slipped on her ass before she scurried off without a word. Cloud held his breath when he found what rattled the sheep. According to his reflection, a looming dark figure stood directly behind him. It wore an extremely long black veil.

"_Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess. We seek it thus, and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest…_"

The instant Cloud heard that deep soft voice, he knew this was the man he spoke to on the phone. His skin tingled and surged with warmth. Cloud turned to face the man. Feeling slightly lightheaded, he stayed seated while he took in the sight of a ghastly yet elegant form.

The Black-Veiled Man.


	19. The Black-Veiled Man

**Author's Note:** _ I swear, I feel like this is a Persona game; Cloud has just unlocked the Emperor tarot card. Also, in my head, 'Rainbow Magic Orchestra' plays whenever Stabby makes his appearance._

* * *

CHAPTER 18: The Black-Veiled Man

The Host's slender shape towered over Cloud while the smell of vanilla dominated the air in his wake. His entire body was concealed in black, from hands to feet. This man… All this time Cloud considered the shadowed figure in his mind a mere product of wild fantasies. But here the man stood, shrouded in all of his black splendor and mystery. Cloud knew in this instant they were already acquainted. _Black_. Black was the missing piece of memory he had lost. Now that piece settled back into Cloud's collective conscious. He felt whole again.

The air somehow became hotter when Cloud recalled a great many _other_ details of his first meeting with Black. Multiple men engaged in crude acts. The restroom stall. The sight of a wonderfully sized cock. Their dance. As those mental pictures emerged from Cloud's freshly awakened memories, he had trouble keeping his face at eye-level.

"Act One, LOVELESS," Black said, interrupting his raw thoughts.

"Excuse me?" Cloud finally breathed again.

"That is what the symbols on that stone translate to." When Cloud reactively glanced at the tablet in the water again, Black supplied more information. "Those symbols originate from Ancient Gaia text. Only a handful of scholars in the world can decipher it today."

"You must be a big fan of LOVELESS," the boy commented.

A low chuckle came from the dark-cloaked creature. "Hardly. LOVELESS was beaten into my head enough times by the man who deciphered those symbols. I have as much knowledge of LOVELESS' acts and its various interpretations as he does now."

Cloud looked away from the tablet. When he studied Black again, his fingers clenched onto the ledge he sat on. A question teetered at the tip of his tongue; a question he desperately wanted an answer to ever since their first meeting. "Who are you? What is your name?"

"You know the answer to that question, boy." It was the same response given to him before.

Cloud finally got to his feet. He shook his head. "Actually, I don't. I remember meeting you. We talked. We…" Cloud hesitated when the image of the man's cock mentally projected in his mind again. Rather than mention that detail, he said instead, "…_danced_. But you never told me your name."

The Host did not move from his spot. His abrupt stillness reminded Cloud of the indifferent statue behind him. Black and the Goddess. Whereas one radiated with a blue glow, the other was void of color and light. Cloud stood between them and waited for fate to decide on the next course of action.

Black moved again. He took several steps forward until they were face-to-face, inches from each other. Cloud could practically feel the heat emanate from the other man. He waited an eternity for the veiled creature to speak. When he did, his words took Cloud by surprise.

"You reek."

The blond-haired boy frowned. Then he slightly flinched back when a gloved hand reached out to his face. Black gently traced the shape of Cloud's lips with a thumb.

In an even-toned voice, Black elaborated, "Aside from the fecal odor associated with residing below, I detect the acidic stench of processed food in your mouth." Sounding amused, the Host added, "And yes, I can also smell the dried juices of a lover you finger-fucked an hour ago. You're a very dirty boy, Cloud."

Black's words snapped Cloud out of his daze. He couldn't believe the insane level of accuracy Black hit him with. Cloud took two steps back and created space between them. Glancing down at his hands, he couldn't detect any strong odors on him. Did he smell _that_ bad? Or were Black's senses as ridiculously well-refined as a guard hound's? Cloud did not know. He would've been embarrassed by the Host's knowledge of his past actions had the man not spoken those last words the way he did. Black's velvet voice and choice of words – _dirty boy_ –caused a tension to develop throughout Cloud's body.

"Come; follow me to my floor." Black left no room for debate and simply headed off, his long black veil trailing behind him.

There wasn't time to weigh his options. Cloud set himself on auto-pilot mode and complied.

The club's music pounded in his ears as they ventured toward the elevator he had spotted earlier. When several clients noticed Black, they looked away and retreated to another area. Cloud found it funny how paths opened for them no matter where they went. The foreboding presence that stalked the Blue Floor effectively brought a new intense energy in the air. When they finally made it to the elevator, Cloud saw Black pull out a white key card from his veil and slide it into the reader. The glassed doors parted and both of them stepped inside.

As the glass elevator ascended, Cloud maintained his distance. The aura of Black reminded him of the child. Sephiroth. The boy was likely looking for him in the Blue Floor. Cloud regretted not staying. He didn't want to piss Zack off. In the presence of the mystifying beast, though, it was hard to think straight. His curiosity got the best of him. Now, all Cloud wanted was to know the face behind the veil.

The floors changed colors as they passed each one, from purple to green to yellow to red. There were long hallways and glassed rooms. Cloud caught glimpses of starry blue-eyed Hosts interact with their clients. They served drinks, gave massages, danced, and spoke to their guests as lovers would. The world of LOVELESS was different from anything Cloud experienced before. The Hosts perceived love in multiple colors. He wondered if _black_ was the representation of love for the veiled man beside him.

On the seventh floor, the elevator finally stopped. They reached Black's level. Cloud expected something dark and suffocating; black on black, much like the entrance of LOVELESS. Much like _him_. When the doors parted, though, he froze. Cloud's entire body was bathed in white light.

They had arrived at the White Floor.

White dominated the entire hallway, from the white tiled flooring to its white walls. Several white-framed paintings hung but revealed only blank white canvases. Eager to explore this area in person, Cloud took one step forward. Black immediately issued a request before he went any further.

"Remove your shoes."

Understandably, the Host did not want grimy shoes soiling the sterile white image of this floor. Cloud unlaced his boots. He made a face at the holes on his gray socks. His fat toe stuck out from one of them. Cloud regretted not clipping his nails before this outing – fucking embarrassing. With boots in hand, he held onto them until Black pointed at a spot ahead.

"Now offer them to Stabby."

Cloud hesitated. "…_Stabby?_"

It took him a second to realize they weren't alone. Blending in the white background, a small white-robed figure actually stood in the middle of the long white hallway. The hooded form was no more than three feet tall; short and squatty. Its head was bowed down until it looked up. Yellow beady eyes stared at Cloud. His blood turned cold. He recognized those yellow eyes and the murky green flesh.

A Tonberry.

Stabby's tail slowly wagged left to right as it stalked forward, heading straight for Cloud. Cloud knew all about these predatory yet intelligent creatures from his mother. The Tonberry was a notorious, lethal species. Possessing a high tolerance to pain, they couldn't be killed easily. They also carried cleavers and pulverized anyone without remorse. Cloud expected to be stabbed to death when Stabby stopped in front of him. The dreadful thing brought up a bizarre-shaped green hand. Thankfully, it held no knife.

"You'd best give Stabby your shoes, boy," advised Black, "Stabby can get impatient very fast. No one wants to see Stabby get impatient."

Cloud didn't need any more convincing. He quickly handed over his shoes to Stabby. How Black managed to domesticate a Tonberry was beyond his comprehension. The Host, meanwhile, calmly unzipped and slipped off his knee-high black boots. He handed them over to his small servant.

As Black stood bare footed, Cloud observed his smooth cream-colored skin. His silver-polished nails were perfectly trimmed on long slender toes. There was no unwanted hair or budging veins. Despite being stuck in leather boots all day, Black's feet also did not give out any odors.

Perfect hands and now perfect feet… Some part of Cloud actually hoped Kyle was right. He hoped underneath Black's veil was the vilest face on the planet. It would even things out, at least.

Black was the first to step out of the elevator and enter this heavenly white abyss. His tall, lean silhouette appeared sharply against the illuminating background. The black body-sized veil swayed left to right. Cloud had never encountered anything so abstract, terrifying, and beautiful in his life until now.

Together, the three headed for a white door laced with silver at the end of the hallway. It was guarded by a white marble statue. Cloud made sure to put as much distance between him and Stabby as possible. As they walked to the end of the hallway, a series of glassed rooms flanked both their sides.

Cloud suspected these rooms housed the Host's personal guests. None of them were occupied but each showcased a bed, couch, table, and other basic essentials. For Cloud, the seventh floor seemed frozen in time and space. Large holographic images projected across their glassed walls. Blossomed white lotuses. Close-up shots of body parts. A distant ocean. The opened remains of a white dove.

Once they reached the door, Cloud got a closer look at the white statue there. He realized it wasn't like the others. It didn't depict the Goddess but, instead, a seven-winged angel with no clear gender. Cloud's hand reached out to touch its beautiful marble features. He stopped when Stabby finally opened the door and Black looked to his direction.

"My personal chambers," the Host stated. "Come."

Glancing at the seven-winged angel one last time, Cloud stepped away from it. He entered the door along with Black and Stabby and was treated to another bare-white room.

The Host's personal chambers proved more extravagant than the hallway. Thousands of stringed white lights dangled from above like teardrops. White gothic-styled windows and white curve-shaped furniture decorated the vast space while ornate white trimmings framed white doors and panels. A white grandfather clock ticked nearby as Cloud descended a small set of stairs and dived deeper into the Host's den.

The energy here felt raw. He eyed the white abstract sculptures with a spare glance. They implied erotic shapes, some more vulgar than others. On a few white paneled walls, he saw out-of-focused sex scenes play on loop without sound. One showed the back of a woman's head repeatedly bob between the legs of a man wearing a terrifying Behemoth mask.

Ultimately, it was the presence of white mannequins in the room that attracted Cloud's attention the most. They appeared at random locations, placed in disjointing positions. Some of their heads or limbs were removed, leaving only their chests or legs. Their plastic nude bodies gave Cloud the creeps.

While Stabby temporarily disappeared in another room with their boots, Black walked toward a white record player across the room. He selected a white album from a white bin and set the white needle to its position. Cloud expected to hear the harmonious sounds of violins and some diva singer play. Instead, he heard the rough noise of finger-flicking surf guitars and drum beats. The vintage, psycho-hillbilly tune completely obliterated the silence in the room. Black stayed in front of the record player; his gloved hands placed on its sides. He looked up at the ceiling of teardrops and swayed his veiled face left to right, savoring every second of the music.

"There was a time when I preferred the silence. Anything else gave me headaches," the man admitted. "Now I dread the void. I want nothing more than to bash my ears with the sounds of chaos."

Cloud didn't mind the silence himself but understood his point. Having grown up in the quiet countryside, surrounded only by the hushed noises of nature, the complete absence of sound usually meant death was nearby. He suddenly thought of Mt. Nibel. Aside from its heavy winds, that entire location was void of sound. Not even the birds chirped there.

"Cloud…" Black directly addressed, surprisingly using his first name. He turned his veiled face at Cloud's direction. "I have a request to make of you."

Cloud advanced one step. "Yeah?"

"I want you to take off your clothes."

The Host had spoken those words with the same calm tone he used when he'd requested for him to remove his shoes. Cloud blankly stared at Black. The guitars continued to blare while the blood rushed to his head, warming his cheeks. He quickly uttered, "…W-what?"

The veiled man did not offer him an explanation. Rather, Black abandoned his spot by the record player and opened another door. Feeling numb, Cloud went through the motions and followed him anyway.

They entered a large round-shaped bathroom with white cushioned walls and drapes. A spotless vanity mirror appeared next to the toilet and sink. Various items had been neatly arranged. Great care had also been taken toward the eighty bottles in a tall glass cabinet close by. Each bottle faced the same direction, all equally spaced out from each other. The question on whether Black suffered from an obsessive-compulsive disorder crossed Cloud's mind. He kept that question to himself though as he explored the rest of the bathroom. Above, the mirror ceiling acted as its own upside-down universe, reflecting back this strange reality. Cloud frowned when he found more mannequins here.

Scattered, the white lifeless dolls nearly vanished into the white setting but their blood-red lips visibly stood out. Bodies angled awkwardly, the mannequins wore long white veils and faced the center of the bathroom. Cloud felt their empty eyes on him. He quickly redirected his attention back to Black.

By now, the Host walked to the center of the bathroom where a small round table and porcelain-white tub awaited use. On the table, there were lit candles of various sizes and several bottles similar to the ones in the glass cabinet. Cloud recognized the vintage white tub. It was the same one in the artsy video he saw yesterday – the one with the multi-eyed woman with silver hair.

Black's small servant soon reappeared. Stabby carried a small silver platter with a sealed white envelope, a white pen, and white towel on it. The Tonberry stood by the bathroom's entry but did not move from its spot. Meanwhile, Black turned the knob of the tub. It began to fill with hot water. As the steam rose, the Host grabbed a bottle and spilled some of its contents into the tub. Soapy bubbles formed and a rosy fragrance filled the air. Black directed his words at Cloud again.

"I'll not have the essence of another lover on you, boy," he remarked evenly. "The odor of the Slums also offends me. Remove your personal articles so that I may cleanse you of your filth."

While the reason behind the man's absurd request finally came to light, it didn't make Cloud feel any better. He stood paralyzed to the point of being unable to move or speak. _Black wanted to bathe him?_ Gaia. As if being locked inside a coffin earlier wasn't traumatizing enough, he had to deal with _this_.

"Shall I motivate you?" the dark figure politely pressed when Cloud still did not move from his spot.

Fearing the worse, Cloud glanced at the small creature by the bathroom's entry. He wondered if the Host intended to have the Tonberry rip off his clothes for him and dump him in the tub. But Black issued no such order. Instead, he turned off the faucet once the hot water reached a good level; the layer of soapy bubbles had fully blossomed. The Host removed his leather gloves one finger at a time.

"Very well, I will provide you some motivation," he asserted. "Perhaps then you'll commit to action."

The Host set his gloves on the round table. A glimpse of skin and long silver-painted nails reminded Cloud of the night they met; of the time he observed those glorious hands steady a cock during a piss. Chewing the insides of his lower lip, he realized how right Black was about him: he _was_ a dirty boy. That crude thought came to a halt when he watched the Host's current actions. Bare hands now worked to undo the buttons of his black blouse. Cloud finally understood what he meant by _motivation_.

Guitars and a male vocalist drifted in and out from the other room while the Host unbuttoned the rest of his top. Cloud's breath hitched when Black slipped it off. His view was obscured by the dark veil but he caught peeks of white skin through the meshed pattern. Black neatly folded his blouse and placed it on the table. His hands now settled on the button of his black leather pants. It didn't take more than a few seconds to remove the expensive fabric from his long legs.

Cloud's eyes followed the Host as he climbed into the tub. The veil concealed Black's body from him. However, against the stark white of the bathroom, Cloud could faintly see the silhouette of his milk-white naked form. Black's appearance became more vulgar in this way. His veil teased at things he was forbidden to see. For the first time in his life, Cloud wanted to take something by force. He wanted to rip the veil apart and violate Black's modesty much like a groom violated his bride on their wedding night.

As Black descended into the water, the bottom of his elegant veil spilled outward. It eventually settled and sank into the water. He leaned back. Resting his arms on the tub's ledges, the Host gazed at Cloud.

"I've done my part," Black stated, "Now undress for me, boy."

Cloud had trouble controlling his breath. A piece of him refused to go along with Black's plan. Not only was he perfectly capable of bathing himself, but he did not want to expose his flawed scarred skin to an immaculate creature that paid super attention to everything, including the direction his shampoo bottles faced. Black would no doubt find a hundred details wrong with his body.

Overwhelmed by self-doubts and shortcomings, Cloud was tempted to leave. He would've too had the Tonberry not stood by the exit, intently staring at him with its beady yellow eyes. Somewhere inside that flimsy white cloak was a butcher knife. One command from Black and he was a dead man.

Cloud visibly took a dry swallow. His eyes found Black again. The sight of him made it difficult to think straight. Black lay naked underneath that long black veil; his slender shape relaxed in the tub. The Host's allure clashed with the potential danger Cloud found himself in. At any given moment he could be torn apart for upsetting this enchanting dark beast. His sense of self-preservation demanded he escape. It wanted him to go and never come back. But while Cloud mentally scolded himself for coming here in the first place, he also made no effort to leave either. Something else kept him in Black's personal chambers.

Somehow, the danger heightened Cloud's senses. His entire body pulsed with energy. The blood flowed faster. His heart pounded in both ears, keeping up with the music's beats. Cloud began to understand why a male mantis would stupidly give itself up to the female predator. Even when the fool knew it would die, that sense of doom made the moment too visceral and intoxicating to resist. The male mantis would experience the greatest fuck in its life. Even if it was its last.

Cloud reached a conclusion. At some point, every creature in the planet wanted to be devoured by a higher power. An insect. A god. A purpose. A dream. A lover. A black-veiled man.

A slow exhale and Cloud's hands worked to undo his current clothing. Zippers, buttons, and clasps… they were all at the mercy of his fingers. First the jacket came off, then the shirt. The socks slipped off next, followed by the jeans. As Cloud stood in his gray briefs, his eyes wandered to the long scar across his stomach. He doubted its existence appealed to Black, likewise the faint spots of freckles here and there. The urge to hide his body from Black reemerged again. Before he could act on that paranoia, however, the Host's voice reached his ears again.

"Where did you get that lovely scar?"

_Lovely scar?_ Cloud almost growled. He doubted Black's compliment held any truth. It was not lovely at all. Looking away from it, Cloud did not go into the specifics and merely mumbled, "It was an accident."

"An accident, you say?" Black tilted his head to one side. "Your scar stretches throughout your entire abdominal area, as if you'd been ripped apart. Hm, a most peculiar _accident_…"

Offering no response to the man's observations, Cloud stayed at his spot and didn't speak a word.

"I, myself, am very fond of scars," confessed Black. "They're exquisite pieces of art created on flesh."

Cloud winced. "Why do you think that?"

"Scars visually remind immortal gods they are mortal creatures." Black leaned further back into the tub. Raising one long and pale leg, he placed it over the ledge. "A shame many would prefer to forget the pain and pretend their scars did not exist."

Cloud's eyes stared at the open display in front of him. Even when concealed by water and veil alike, Black's immodest open-legged position inspired many perverse ideas in Cloud's head. He attempted to distant himself from them by asking, "If you enjoy scars, does that mean you also enjoy pain?"

"Very much."

The reply surprised the boy. Curious, he wondered aloud, "Then you're sadist?"

"No."

Cloud's face contorted into a confused expression. "But… you enjoy pain."

"A sadist derives pleasure from having power over a person or situation," Black explained, "At the core of the sadist is a man who stands at the mercy of other powerful forces – an abusive parent, a tyrant boss, a dull existence. Etcetera. The sadist thus chases power; it is what he's known all his life. He desires to become his own god and, thus, inflicts pain on others to exert control. It serves as a means to an end." Idly, Black ran a finger along the tub's ledge. He soon clarified, "I do not require power over others to gain pleasure. Controlling a man with no will to fight me back would also bore me to death."

The way Black analyzed personalities in great detail both intrigued and terrified Cloud. He eventually concluded, "Then you're a masochist."

Black laughed; his brilliant sound echoed across the bath chambers. The Host quickly teased, "You observe the world in black and white, do you, boy?"

Cloud's mouth opened but nothing came out.

"No," Black rejected again, "A masochist derives pleasure _from_ pain. For those who've become numb to everything else, it is their salvation. Pain reminds them of their existence. Thus, the masochist experiences the world on a physical level. In leaving the burden of control and accountability on someone else, they also reap the rewards of painful sexual conduct without guilt or consequences." Black slowly shook his head. "I do not require pain to experience this world, boy. Nor do I want to give up my power to someone else."

Stumped, Cloud felt like he was going in circles trying to figure out this man. "I don't get it. You enjoy pain but you aren't a masochist or a sadist. What the hell are you then?"

Black thought for a moment. He looked up at the mirror ceiling. Finally, he answered, "I am a humanist."

Cloud scoffed. Now he was _positive_ Black was fucking with his head. "_A humanist?_ What's that supposed to mean? How does enjoying pain make you a _humanist_?"

"I will happily explain that to you during your bath, boy. Now come. My nose cannot tolerate your dreadful smells any longer."

Cloud wasn't sure if Black said that as an excuse to avoid his question or express an honest gripe. He considered his options anyway. Standing in only his cotton briefs, Cloud felt both naked and stupid. Having a bubble bath with another man mortified him. Again, that tiny voice in his head urged him to pick up his clothes and take his chances with Stabby. The thought was a very short-lived one though. Even if he _could_ leave, did he really want to? Cloud admittedly found himself invested in his current talk with Black.

A humanist…

When Cloud approached and stood beside the tub, the Host quietly chuckled. Black waited for him to remove the last article on his person. Cloud quickly diverted his eyes to the spotless white floor. He sensed Black's unrelenting stare and wanted to disappear. Somehow, the sterile whiteness of the seventh floor left him even more exposed. He couldn't back down now though. Cloud refused to let second-guesses and fear dictate his actions. His fingers reluctantly slipped underneath the elastic waistband of his briefs. He took a deep breath and finally dropped them.

A half-awake want flopped out, slightly bouncing. The tip was already moist. Cloud grew tempted to cover himself before Black noticed it. He decided to retreat in the tub instead. Sinking into the water with a small splash, Cloud hissed from the heat. The rosy scent of soap hit his nostrils and nearly made him sneeze. Bringing his knees up, he sat covered in bubbles to his waist; positioned across Black at the other end of the tub. Cloud tried to keep as much distance between them as possible.

Black reached for the table again. This time he grabbed a fresh bar of soap wrapped in plastic. It shared the same rosy scent as the bath water. Unwrapping it, he instructed, "Sit closer so that I may wash you."

"Why can't I wash myself?" Cloud began to argue.

"Hm, sensitive, are we?"

"No, I… I just want to know why I can't do it myself."

"What's the matter, boy?" Black discarded the plastic wrapping paper on the table and shot back, "Afraid my personal administrations may prove too much for you?"

The man's taunts made Cloud's face flush furiously. Aside from being annoyed by Black's retorts, his stubborn nature didn't enjoy backing down from a challenge. He wasn't afraid of anything, least of all, a damn bubble bath. As if to prove his point, Cloud scooted closer with his knees still drawn to the chin. He maintained his distance but was no longer pressed against the back end of the tub. To him, it was a victory. But at the opposite end Black merely laughed. He did not sound impressed.

The leg on the ledge settled back into the water and the Host swiftly sat up. His haunting veiled figure crawled toward him like an apparition from hell. The boy reactively retreated. He moved back until he could go no further. Wide-eyed, Cloud stared at the mass of black that towered over him. The Host dominated his personal space. Cloud didn't realize he stopped breathing until his body demanded air.

"Gaia…" Cloud's murmur sounded dangerously close to a whimper.

Black settled in to his new spot directly in front of Cloud, his veil spilling over them. He hiked it up enough to expose their intertwined, knee-bent legs.

Cloud had trouble keeping still, feeling at odds with the contact their legs made. Black's skin felt warm and smooth. Both the heat of the tub and his escalating body temperature caused his cheeks to glow bright with color. When a hand grabbed his left foot, he automatically flinched back. Black propped it against his own chest. Cloud wanted to pull away but the Host kept his leg in place with a firm hand grip – _fuck, this man was strong_.

With the bar of soap, Black gently scrubbed at the soiled flesh that hadn't been washed all day. He took his time. As if collecting information, his lubricated fingers traveled along the curves of Cloud's leg. It wasn't as smooth as Black's. The fair blond unshaven hairs on it created a soft texture. Black's meticulous nature became more apparent as Cloud watched him clean between his toes one at a time. It took the boy an eternity to find his voice again.

"S-so about what you said earlier…"

"About being a humanist?" Black finished for him.

Cloud nodded. "How does enjoying pain make you a humanist?"

"Pain reminds us of humankind's fragile condition," Black answered without hesitation. He currently cleaned the pinky toe and didn't appear offended by the grown nail there. "Our sense of mortality is never clearer than when we are suffering. It is a time when we learn a hard truth about ourselves."

"Truth? What truth?"

"Whereas some individuals go stronger from their pain, others go weaker."

The tension on Cloud's shoulders gradually relaxed. The foot massage Black gave him felt surprisingly good – _wonderful_, in fact. It made it difficult to focus on their conversation. He managed to ask, "What about love? Doesn't love teach us to grow stronger? Isn't that a part of our human _condition_ too?"

Black's hands paused on his ankle. He didn't meet Cloud's query with an answer right away. Instead, his thumb rubbed the ankle in small circles.

"Love is a placebo pill," he finally murmured back. The Host set Cloud's left foot down and picked up the right one next. He repeated his cleaning methods and declared shortly after, "Love offers no treatment to the pain but gives the impression that it does. If it is bliss-induced neurotransmitters you require, boy, you are better off eating vast quantities of chocolate than indulging in love."

Cloud sat with a frown on his face, not satisfied by Black's response. "So that's it? Love is a fantasy?"

"Love is our fantasy and pain is our reality."

Those words prompted Cloud to shake his head. "I don't believe that. Even if you think love is an illusion, it still inspires us. There's the love of our friends, our partners, our fathers, our…"

"_Mothers?_"

The way Black spoke that word, hushed and evenly, Cloud sensed something meaningful and deeper there. He waited for Black to talk again. However, the Host kept silent and resumed washing his foot.

"It has to mean more than that…" Cloud persisted later, unable to accept Black's previous words. "You're a Host. Isn't it your job to make people embrace love?"

"My job is to instill the _illusion_ of love. I am to treat the side-effects of pain; not the infection itself – as if anyone cares to know the difference these days. Business continues to boom, both beautifully and tragically." Black chuckled. "For the right price, you can obtain temporary bliss. This is why our clients keep coming back to us. The loveless find love. Even _you_ will come back to _me_ after this night is done."

Cloud stared. Quietly, he asked, "You are… going to make me fall in love with you too?"

A finger delicately traced one vein on his foot. "Perhaps, boy. We shall see soon enough. Won't we?"

The boy couldn't interpret that as a question or a challenge. He ignored the tension that built in his stomach and expressed, "I still don't get how enjoying pain makes you a humanist."

"Humankind has always harbored misery and chaos within itself. Our initiation into this species begins with agony. As we breathe air into our lungs for the first time, we scream out in pain."

Black's fingers faintly ran along the side of Cloud's leg. It caused the boy to sit still. Hands clenched into fists underwater; Cloud's member slightly stirred below.

"Humankind cannot be content with love," Black claimed, "not when evolution has granted it teeth, nails, and the mental capacity to conjure up the vilest methods of self-destruction. Given the perfect opportunity and motivations, anyone can tear this world apart. Even you. Ironically enough, _love_ offers the worst pain a man can experience and endure. It is often the source of his madness."

A thumb tenderly stroked Cloud's calf. The boy sucked in air and countered, "Then why not fight against it? Why embrace the pain at all?"

Carefully, the Host set the foot down and moved forward. He slowly climbed on top of Cloud. His veiled body slid up, pushing against the boy's chest first until the upper part of Black's torso rose from the water. Black looked down at the smaller male while one pale hand drew up. Long silvery nails glint against the light as Black caressed Cloud's cheek, tenderly stroking it as a loving mother would.

"Boy," he began softly, "the greatest sin any man can commit is to deny the pain that resides within himself; to deny that aspect of his humanity; worse, to ignore its existence by enslaving himself with illusions of love, treasures, and power – all of which is intended to make him forget his pain."

Their bodies pressed together with Black on top, Cloud immediately forgot how to breathe. He tried to lick his dried lips but found his tongue lacking saliva. The sheer weight of the other man shot his nerves on fire. His cock, helplessly pushed against Black's thigh, stretched to full attention. The overly sensitive muscle now twitched at the slightest of movements. At this close proximity, Cloud could see green eyes burn into him through the meshed veil. They stayed on him as he lay underneath; trapped by a mass of black. Cloud couldn't control his body's reactions when the hand that caressed his cheek now drifted down. Trembling, he felt Black's fingers graze his stomach until reaching the beveled line of his scar.

"That is why we require reminders," Black murmured to him. A fingernail traced the fleshy seam. "As this species numbs the pain away with substances, food, talk shows, online chatting, fucking… it loses more and more of its humanity. You observe this every day from below, do you not?"

Still trying to breathe, Cloud had trouble focusing on his words. He numbly stared.

"Your presence, _your pain_, is hidden away by a thick layer of constructed metal," the Host bitterly reminded him. "In turning a blind eye to your suffering, the people of the Plate can freely love and laugh. These dullards do not want to be reminded of the dark core that exists within every man, woman, and child. They would prefer to live in ignorance, even at the cost of losing their humanity."

When Black surprisingly pulled away, he placed both his hands on Cloud's waist and brought the youth up to his knees. Water dripped and an erection came into full view. Cloud felt light-headed. Not only was he exposed but also very aroused. As Black looked up at him from his low seated position, his veiled face lingered dangerously close to the throbbing want. A small sound left Cloud's lips when Black leaned forward. He expected to feel his mouth on him; to experience that wonderful warm and slick sensation. However, through his veil, Black gave him a series of soft kisses along his abdominal scar instead.

"Consider yourself lucky for having this," Black told Cloud, still kissing the remnants of a fatal wound. "Let this scar be a reminder of your pain; of your sense of mortality. It shall keep you from becoming yet another disillusioned inhumane fool. That is why I chose you, boy. Your despair speaks to me."

Closing his eyes, Cloud had heard similar words spoken to him before. He struggled to stay on his knees without falling backward from vertigo. His curiosity reaching its peak, he demanded, "_Who are you?_ Tell me your name. I need to know. I _have_ to know."

"You already know my name, Cloud," came the same reply.

The longer Cloud's eyes remained closed, the more Black's presence summoned the image of the silver-haired boy again. He shared the dominating aura as him. He possessed the same range of impressionable words that unraveled his very being. As a prickly sensation ran across Cloud's skin, a name came out of his mouth "…_Sephiroth._"

The Host stopped kissing his scar. Cloud heard Black quietly laugh below. "…That took you long enough."

His words caused Cloud to open his eyes. Gazing down, he studied the veiled-man seated below. "Wait. Your name is… _Sephiroth?_" Baffled by this news, Cloud shook his head. "But I thought that was the child's name?"

"That is a topic for another time, boy," Sephiroth replied.

It was at this point, Stabby approached. Carrying the silver platter in its small reptilian-like hands, it offered its contents to its master. Sephiroth took the small towel first to dry his hands. Then he grabbed the envelope. With a silver nail, he cleanly sliced it open. Cloud sank back into the water and stayed there, waiting for Sephiroth to speak again.

"I had Zack transfer your contract to Stabby." Sephiroth pulled out the sheet and showed it to Cloud. "We are to sign it together."

The mention of his contract made Cloud remember his financial situation. With a sigh, he confessed, "I… don't think I can afford you, Sephiroth."

Under his veil, the man laughed. "Of course you cannot. You are here to negotiate with me."

While Black spoke the truth, Cloud didn't appreciate the laugh. He replied in a bitter voice, "Negotiate? I doubt you'll take five-Gil installment payments."

"That was not what I had in mind. I have another proposal."

Cloud waited for him to continue.

"Instead of an exchange of Gil for my services, you are to grant me a wish." Sephiroth must've noticed the stumped look on Cloud's face because he soon elaborated, "During each meeting, I will make a demand. You are to meet that demand with no questions or rejections. Failure to comply will result in the termination of our contract. You will not show your face here again. On the other hand, so long as you play by the rules you are free to call on me whenever you so choose. Does that seem fair?"

"What kinda demands are we talking about?" the boy slowly asked.

"Whatever I desire. It is not for you to ask, boy."

Cloud's jaw danced. Zack previously mentioned that negotiations with Sephiroth could _entail_ anything. But this was not what he expected. Clueless over the type of demands Sephiroth would make, Cloud remained hesitant – _what if some demands were impossible to meet?_

There was no other alternative in hiring the Host. He didn't have the Gil to meet his painfully high rates. Even if he was probably better off forgetting the entire arrangement, Cloud couldn't just walk away from this either. He'd gotten a taste of Sephiroth's world tonight. It was different; exciting. Exhilarating. He actually wanted _more_.

Cloud felt the heat rise on his cheeks again. Admittedly, he couldn't think with a clear head when his _second_ head below still flared with a needy demand. His previous attempt at gratification had been woefully interrupted by the constant buzzing sounds of missed calls. Cloud now sat with the person responsible for that disappointing event. It didn't help Sephiroth evoked a serious hard-on in the aftermath. At this point, Cloud didn't care which gender got him off anymore, so long as he encountered bright shooting stars.

Cloud finally agreed with the Host's proposal. He accepted the pen and contract given to him. Teenage hormones be damned; he halfway hoped the Host's first demand was sex.

"Excellent," commended Sephiroth after Cloud signed his name. He committed the same action and later placed the items on Stabby's silver platter. The Host turned to Cloud. "Now that we've signed the contract, we are bound to each other; you to me and I to you. Never forget that."

The boy nodded.

As the Tonberry wandered away with their contract, Sephiroth drew closer to Cloud. He cocked his head to one side and said, "As discussed, you are to grant me a wish during each of our meetings. Tonight, my demand is a simple one: I want you to look upon my face."

Cloud didn't know how to react to this request. Ever since he met Sephiroth, his mind conjured up multiple facial possibilities based on the rumors he'd heard. A heavily scarred man with burnt marks. A hideously deformed monster with razor sharp teeth. A hollowed man in constant mourning over a loved one. Some part of Cloud regretted signing his name away so fast; fearing any of those rumors would prove true. He put those concerns aside, however, as he sat in front of Sephiroth. Few knew why the Host wore a veil over his face. Now, in this moment, he would learn that answer.

At the other room, the white record player chose a new song. It was yet another strange guitar-addicted tune. Cloud vaguely paid attention to the song's words as he reached out to touch Sephiroth's black veil. The material was long. His hands had to reach into the water to locate its hemline below. Once his fingers grasped it, Cloud slowly lifted it in the air. Water dripped from the meshed fabric as it rose higher and higher. Again, he felt like a groom on his wedding night; his Bride of Death waited to consummate their bonds with this final act.

Cloud sucked on his lower lip when he pulled the black veil up and saw a hairless chiseled chest with impressively toned muscles. No burnt marks. No deformities. The skin appeared as milky and smooth as the statue that guarded Sephiroth's personal chambers. A perfect torso to match perfect hands and perfect feet. Cloud resumed pulling the cloak up. His heart picked up a beat faster when he came across a well-defined collarbone and bare neck. A prominent jawline appeared next. It was at this point Cloud unveiled the rest of this dark creature with one strong swoop. Hands dropped to his sides.

"This… is you?" Cloud whispered under his breath.

With pale skin that illuminated against the white light, Sephiroth possessed an unsettlingly, unworldly beauty. The hair that flowed from his head shined with long strands of silver that reached to his back, spilling down like a waterfall. Silver – just like the child.

As if sculpted by the hands of a master artist, Sephiroth displayed perfectly proportioned features: a long narrow nose, high cheek bones, thick lashes, and sharply defined brows. A hint of a smile teetered at the edges of the mouth. His moist blush-red lips appeared prominently against the cream color of his skin. Unlike the other Hosts, Sephiroth did not harbor the iconic bright-blue eyes. Like the child's, his burned with emerald fire. Their slit-shaped pupils reminded Cloud of a snake. A predator's eyes.

Sitting face-to-face in the tub, it was as if Cloud caught a glimpse of nirvana. It took the shape of a silver-haired man with starry green eyes. A face like Sephiroth's could drive any decent man or woman into insanity; driven by perversions, greed, and primal motivations. Cloud suddenly thought about his frightful encounter with the sick orange-haired woman earlier in the week.

He finally remembered her. She was the high-ranked officer Sephiroth had accompanied during his birthday party. Her crazed eyes… Last he saw of her, she'd gone to hunt down a woman from the Slums. Cloud realized why the officer couldn't keep her shit together. Aside from some disease eating at her, she had been overcome with fear. She had touched the Divine and now feared losing it to someone else.

Cloud understood why the Host had to hide his face from the world; why people went _coo-coo_ over him. It all made fucking sense now. The world couldn't handle the likes of a living god. Could _he_?

"You finally see me," Sephiroth said. It sounded more than a simple statement.

The boy's mouth stayed pursed. Cloud made no protest when the beautiful man grabbed his arm and gently pulled him to sit on his lap. They rested against the tub together; Cloud lying on his back on top of Sephiroth. As the chaotic sounds of blown-out guitars and organic melodies wailed in the background, the steam of the bath water continued to rise. It created a foggy white dream laced with the scent of vanilla and rose. Cloud arched his back against Sephiroth and softly groaned when he felt the man's length press against his lower back. His clear-blue eyes stared up at the ceiling mirror high above. He saw their reflections; their shapes infused as one. They made an interesting pair. Silver and gold.

With the bar of soap in his hand again, Sephiroth resumed washing Cloud, scrubbing the filth off his arms. "Prior to our sessions, I will wash you," he quietly decided. "You may be a diamond in the rough, boy, but that does not mean you have to be covered in dirt and excrement like one."

Cloud scoffed. Mandatory baths wasn't a part of their deal but he made no mention of that. Instead, he watched Sephiroth intertwine his long pale fingers with his. The silver-haired man washed his hands thoroughly, persistently cleaning under each nail and swiping at the wedges between all of his fingers. Sephiroth scrubbed the hands a second time for good measure. By the time he was done, he removed all traces of the woman Cloud had earlier.

Cloud looked up when Sephiroth's hands finally wandered over to his chest, rubbing and cleaning every inch of it. The collarbone. The muscles. The nipples. The belly point. The horrific scar. His skin glossed with water and soap. Sephiroth carefully cleaned the belly point. The warm wet sensation of his lubed fingers caused Cloud's erection to jerk underwater. It was the one area the Host had not touched yet. As Sephiroth continuously washed his belly in small circles, Cloud halfway closed his eyes. He gripped the ledge of the tub with a hand; a silent plea for absolution.

"This is me in my most humanist moment," the Host commented a short while later, speaking those words directly into Cloud's right ear.

Sephiroth slid the bar of soap down Cloud's chest. It moved beyond the belly point and disappeared in the bubbled water. With the same amount of attention he'd given to the other skin parts, the Host carefully grazed this sensitive section of Cloud's body in an unhurried pace. He repeatedly rubbed the soap against the sacs, slipping it in and out between them. Sephiroth cupped the tender balls afterward with his hands. He gently pulled and squeezed at the rough skin in circular motions, making sure no spot went unclean.

"Sephiroth…" was all Cloud could say. Somehow, the bizarre name slid so perfectly from his mouth.

Above, the mirror reflected a boy with dazed blue eyes, slack mouth, and flushed face. Cloud gripped the tub's ledge tighter. The knuckles turned white. He breathed out through his mouth and stretched his body; the toes pointed out. An electrifying tingle built at the stem of his cock. He felt Sephiroth wash his balls in the same clinical, steady fashion. Cleaning every vein, dip, and bump his fingers came across, either that damn OCD kicked in or the man relished in this moment.

Cloud quietly hissed. The tension grew. Unable to sustain this delicious but agonizing pain any longer, he demanded a release soon. Sephiroth focused only on certain parts of him though. Even as he reached the stem of the cock, he only lightly grazed it. The bar of soap barely made contact when he glided it up and down the bulky length. Cloud's body shuddered. With toes clenched, he envisioned those beautiful hands wrap around his hard flesh and finish him off. He found some relief when Sephiroth's thumb brushed the fatty surface of his tip. A swipe here. A swipe there. Then the hand moved away.

Cloud growled. Suffering in a never-ending spiral of raw unrequited sensations, his body trembled nonstop. Nerves singed with fire. His balls swelled with hot blood, blood that continued to rush to a central conjunction point. Driven out of control and having not an ounce of modesty left in him, Cloud decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally. He slid a hand below. Sephiroth immediately caught his wrist midway; his action instantaneous.

"Naughty boy," the Host reprimanded.

From behind, Sephiroth gripped both of Cloud's hands. He wrapped their arms around the boy's slim waist and kept him between his long spread legs. The moment Cloud budged from his spot, the Host held him tighter. Sephiroth chuckled. He sounded amused by his resistance. Cloud grunted and sighed. His strength leaving him, he couldn't break free from the man's iron-strong embrace.

Holding him closer, Sephiroth tenderly rubbed his cheek against Cloud's. "_Shhh_…"

As Sephiroth cradled him in his arms from behind, Cloud could feel his length slide against his backside. It took on a stronger shape than before. Sephiroth made no move to touch it though. Rather, he lay with Cloud in the tub and silently observed their intertwined reflections high above. A small smile shaped his full lips. Apparently, Sephiroth found something intriguing from their mirrored reflection. Cloud could not figure out what it was, but enjoyed the handsome smile anyway. Even the glint in his green eyes made the strange pupils less terrifying. Eventually, he settled against Sephiroth's chest and attempted to ignore his unattended member that still ached with heat.

Viewing the beautiful man's mirrored reflection, Cloud observed that gorgeous silvery hair. It carelessly spread across the tub and water. Long limbs wrapped all around him. They sheltered and trapped him in place. As Sephiroth's chest steadily rose and dipped with each breath he took, it created a soothing rhythm that made Cloud drowsy. Their faces remained pressed together; cheek to cheek. In a way, it reminded Cloud of the times his mother used to stay in bed with him whenever he got sick or couldn't sleep. Her physical presence comforted him. Cloud's body finally relaxed on top of Sephiroth.

As they lay together, consumed by the agony of their flushed and anxious bodies, he wondered if all of this was designed to cater to his personal needs; a customized private session to guarantee a return to LOVELESS. Was this temporary bliss? Was this silver-coated placebo pill intended to numb _his_ pain? Cloud continued staring at the parallel universe high above. That tender and beautiful smile on Sephiroth's face had likely been seen by a hundred clients before him.

His eyes growing heavy, Cloud tried not to think about it anymore. Perhaps when the euphoric effects wore off, he'd contemplate deeper into this. For tonight, however, he simply wanted to have a majestic angel by his side. He wanted to pretend love wasn't just an _illusion_ but the product of two souls coming together as one.


	20. Carnival Games

**Author's Note:** _Cloud and __Sephiroth have a night of fun and games__... (Warnings: drugs, language, trippyness, adult situations)_

* * *

CHAPTER 19: Carnival Games

The Hearse's engines screamed as it sped down a long-winded, decently populated road. Reflections of electric lights and tiny raindrops streaked across the surface of its black tinted windows. From within, Cloud's image appeared on the glass. His sky-blue eyes stared right back at him; the pupils dilated. For a moment, the irises shimmered blue. Cloud dismissed it as part of his imagination and propped his forehead against the window. The Nibelheim native watched a blurred series of steel structures, billboards, and street hustlers flash by him. To him, it was all an elaborate industrial dreamscape.

According to his watch, it was past nine. Thick clouds of green mako from the distant reactors continued to evaporate into the night's sky. While Cloud did recognize this part of the Plate as Sector 8, the Entertainment District, he still had no clue where he was headed. The train station he took to return to the Slums was at the opposite side of this sector.

Cloud closed his eyes, feeling dazed by the collage of lights and blinking colors outside his window. He felt unusually heavy, sensitive to all external stimuli. The nerves under his skin tingled while both ears throbbed from the acid trip-hop music that blasted from high-definition speakers. His insides twisted and turned, ready to erupt. To vomit, to cum, or to take a piss, he didn't know. Cloud slowly breathed out. As the window's glass fogged under his breath, the metallic environment spun inside his head in fast circles. He gave up trying to make sense of it and collapsed backward, landing face-up on the lap of a man sitting next to him.

"Are we having fun yet?" a low voice spoke to him from above, sounding amused.

With a soft groan, Cloud halfway opened his eyes and looked up. Initial blurriness gave way to detailed shapes and colors. He noticed other eyes, blazing green, staring down at him.

Sephiroth.

The Host currently held a two-foot-long thin pipe in one hand. Long silvery locks of hair draped the sides of his beautiful face. Surprisingly, Sephiroth didn't wear his veil but donned his usual dark attire. A few of his blouse's buttons were left undone. Cloud's eyes followed the elongated path of his neck. Smooth and white, it appeared inviting.

Cloud crunched his nose at the thick green smoke that lingered around him. He sneezed at the mixture of vanilla and, what smelled like, citrus in the air.

"I feel weird," Cloud managed to slur back. He rolled his head to one side on Sephiroth's lap, now facing his direction. As they passed by bright neon billboards, the Host changed colors. Blue. Purple. Green. Orange. White. Violet. And red. "What the hell did you give me?"

Rather than answer the question, Sephiroth's parted lips blew out green fumes. The smoke slowly drifted up like a snake. He withdrew the pipe from his mouth. Sephiroth's words sounded slower and deeper. "Is your stomach still upset?"

"No. I just feel… funky."

Sephiroth's flushed lips curved to a small smile. He offered his pipe to Cloud. Initially, the teenager was reluctant to accept it. He kept his mouth pursed until Sephiroth gently pried it apart with his gloved fingers. The Host carefully slipped the pipe's mouth piece inside.

"Inhale, boy. You'll feel better."

The non-stop rocking motion of the car made Cloud groan. He relented. Sephiroth lit the tail-end of the pipe for him with a lighter. With a deep inhale, Cloud sucked in the pipe's contents and filled his lungs with emerald. While he casually lit up with Kyle during his days off, the contents of Sephiroth's pipe must've contained high-grain powerful shit because he choked the moment he took a hit of it.

"Feeling funky is better than ejecting excrement all over the carpet floor," Sephiroth commented over Cloud's coughing fit, "As you almost did earlier, silly boy."

Cloud continued to choke.

The cannabis they smoked together started to relieve his motion sickness and made him relaxed – perhaps a little _too_ relaxed. Cloud was now overcome by warmth and fuzzy sensations. He was as high as… a cloud. Mentally, he laughed at that ridiculous metaphor. Then he turned his head again and noticed Sephiroth's crotch a few inches away from his face.

Cloud's eyes remained fixated on Sephiroth's zipper as he demanded to know, "Where are we going? I thought you were taking me back home. This isn't the way to the train station."

"It's a surprise. You will like it." Sephiroth's eyes shined through the haze of smoke. He glanced out the window a moment later and quietly informed, "We're almost there."

After Sephiroth lit his pipe and took a few hits from it, he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Cloud observed his tranquil state and thought the Host looked like a delicate doll. He was tempted to run his fingers through his strands of silvery hair.

"You should be in a Shinra hair commercial," Cloud blurted out, not caring if his sentiment sounded stupid. "You got prettier hair than any girl I've come across."

Opening his eyes, Sephiroth stared at him with a blank look on his face, still influenced by the jade drug in his system. A hint of a smile eventually tugged at the corner of his mouth. He set his pipe down on the black coffin next to them – the same coffin Cloud had initially arrived in – and removed both of his leather gloves. Cloud noticed something peculiar.

On Sephiroth's pinky finger was a plastic blue ring. It looked cheap and completely out of place compared to the rest of his expensive attire. Cloud narrowed his eyes when he finally recognized it. It was the same ring the silver-haired child snatched from him at Chocobo Chow the other night.

Sephiroth combed through furious locks of blond with his bare hands. As he attempted to tame it, he muttered, "Your hair… You've been out in the wild for too long, boy."

"Good luck trying to domesticate me then," Cloud replied with a yawn.

A silvery brow rose. Sephiroth's smile widened. "Challenge accepted, then."

It'd been half an hour since Cloud and his newfound companion left LOVELESS in Zack's _party wagon_. Thankfully, Cloud wasn't put in the coffin like the last time. Sephiroth had blindfolded him instead for a good portion of the trip. So far, their night together had been surreal. He'd visited LOVELESS and entered an underground world that practically defied reality. When he woke up this morning, Cloud didn't imagine himself being in the company of an unusual handsome man, let alone, bathing with him. While some part of Cloud still felt terrible for ditching Jessie, he also didn't have any regrets.

Whether this was a date with his Host or a simple outing, Cloud couldn't tell. Regardless, they weren't alone for it. Angeal sat several feet away at the tail-end of the Hearse's elongated seat. The heavier built Host had finally abandoned his post at the bar to join them in this late evening venture. He currently rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, briefly closing his eyes. Either the man was tired, annoyed by the cannabis' smoke that dominated the interior space, or irritated by Zack's loud downtempo music. Perhaps it was all of the above.

Zack, himself, helmed the driver's seat once more. His erratic driving was the cause of many car honks outside. He was going too fast, shooting in and out of traffic like a bee doped up on speed. From time to time, Cloud could hear him sing behind the wheel – he had a delightful voice. Angeal had to tap on the black-tinted window that divided the driver's side from the passengers to get him to slow down and lower the music.

The fifth person present was a man Cloud hadn't seen since his birthday celebration many nights ago. An auburn-haired male dressed in red leather sat directly across Cloud. One leg crossed the other. His head remained bowed as he read from an aged crimson book. From time to time, he took a sip from a small porcelain-white cup. The steam of his hot herbal tea lingered in the air.

Prior to their departure from LOVELESS, Sephiroth had formally introduced this aristocratic man as Genesis Rhapsodos. He was the visionary man behind the Host club. Cloud recalled the night they'd unofficially met. Genesis spoke in poetic nonsense and seemed so full of himself that night. Even now, an air of arrogance surrounded him.

"I'll remind you once again, Sephiroth, he looks dreadfully young," Genesis softly remarked over the music. The bookworm kept his eyes on the book but added, "I'm not even sure he's potty-trained."

Cloud's mouth formed a thin straight line.

"Genesis," Angeal began and drew his thick brows closer together. "He is Sephiroth's guest. Play nice."

"My apologies. I had no idea we were at the playground, consorting with misfits and toddlers." Genesis flipped a page. "I suspect Sephiroth will have to sing him lullabies when it's past his bed time."

Despite feeling heavy and slow, Cloud halfway rose from his dormant position. He was ready to give this man a piece of his mind – and fist. Sephiroth gently pulled him back down on his lap, however. A hand on the back of Cloud's neck held him in place. Surprised by the man's strength, Cloud emitted a throaty sound as he tried to get up again. He failed.

Combing the locks of blond hair with his silver-polished fingers again, Sephiroth bent down and murmured, "Don't prove Genesis right by acting like a child. Relax_._"

"Tell him to shut up then," Cloud snapped back.

Despite the Host's efforts to calm him, the Nibelheim native glared at the man across. He was ready to bust the bottom of his fat pretty lip with one swift punch.

"I am only stating the obvious," continued Genesis from across, completely ignoring Cloud's reaction. "Sephiroth's new playmate is far too young to play our type of games."

"It's their prerogative, not ours," Angeal reminded him. "We must honor their contract."

"Alas, friend, dishonoring their contract and making an astute observation are two different things." Genesis took a sip of his hot tea. Afterward, he shook his head and set the cup down. "Honestly, Angeal, you objected to this arrangement yourself. We concluded he is practically a child. Am I the only one left with a sense of code and honor here? For shame."

"Sheesh, cut him some slack," Zack's voice suddenly bellowed from up ahead. The black window divider lowered. Zack's face appeared as he glanced back at them. The peculiar scar on his cheek stretched as he said, "The kid may be young, but I think he can roll with us."

"Duly noted. Thank you for your opinion," Genesis responded evenly. "Now watch the road, Fair."

The headlights of another car bathed them all in white light. Zack cursed as he turned around. He violently swerved left to avoid the head-on collision. The Hearse's momentum forced everyone to shift to one direction. Angeal thumped his head against a window while Genesis sneered, trying to keep his tea from spilling. A blaring horn echoed past them as soon as the near-death experience ended. An indifferent Sephiroth turned his attention to Genesis afterward.

"That'll be enough of that," the silver-haired Host finally addressed him. "While your concern over my affairs is touching, Genesis, it is also unnecessary. Matters such as this should be discussed elsewhere –in private."

Having failed to neatly organize Cloud's chaotic bundle of hair, Sephiroth resorted to a small bottle of clear oil from his coat's pocket. It smelled of rose. He gently ran it across Cloud's scalp, eventually teasing the tips of his hair in the hopes of containing it. As he did this, he spoke again.

"Besides, you, of all people, should know that fresh apples are the juiciest and brightest of the lot."

This made Genesis look up from his book.

"There is nothing wrong with picking out a fresh apple straight from the tree," Sephiroth continued as he gathered several blond hairs together. The edges of his lips curved up. "I certainly prefer them over those that have aged and gone bitter."

Genesis quietly scoffed. His piercing blue eyes shifted to the debilitated boy sprawled across Sephiroth's lap. In a low voice, he quipped, "Be sure to check for _worms_ then."

Genesis uncrossed his legs and shut his book with a loud _thud_ sound. He poured himself another cup of tea from the Hearse's mini bar, dumping at least fifteen sugar cubes in it.

Sephiroth's smile disappeared. He gazed down at Cloud. "Pay him no mind. He possesses a wicked tongue and has a flair for the overdramatic at times."

"Overdramatic…" Cloud echoed flatly.

He wondered if there was anything more to their verbal exchange than Sephiroth was letting on, especially when he remembered the two being somewhat physical at Club LIFESTREAM. Or was it all a theatrical act portrayed by two creative Hosts? The question came and went when Cloud realized he was resting too close to the man's crotch again. His mouth gone dry, he grabbed the hand still rearranging his hair and forced Sephiroth to stop – it was a lost cause anyway.

"I, uh… better get off of you," Cloud muttered as he began to lift himself up. He let go of Sephiroth's hand and reactively tussled his own hair, not used to having anything on it.

The Host's smile returned. He rubbed his hands together to get rid of the excess oil between his fingers. "What a pity. The sight of you between my legs intrigued me very much."

Cloud froze halfway up from his sitting position. He nearly choked on his spit.

"Has anyone told you that you have interesting lips?" Sephiroth later inquired.

His left-field question caused Cloud to frown. "What?"

"You have interesting lips," Sephiroth repeated. His hand reached out to his face. As he traced the shape of Cloud's mouth with a thumb, he confessed, "I couldn't help but notice them while you were on my lap. They're very well-refined, including your tubercle."

"My _what_?" Cloud sat upright. He was positive Sephiroth was screwing with his head.

"Tubercle: that prominent, sharply raised part above the lips." Sephiroth placed a bare finger on a specific spot on his mouth. "Not everyone has this."

Cloud couldn't blink; couldn't move. It was only a simple finger gesture. Even so, the small point of physical contact made the tiny hairs at the back of his neck rise in excitement.

"A queer study was conducted not long ago," Sephiroth mentioned casually. "It alleged that women with a dominant tubercle shape like this are likely to experience orgasm via sexual intercourse. I theorize it is the same for men, provided if that assessment is true."

Cloud cleared his throat. He somehow found his voice again. "…You're weird."

"So they say." Sephiroth removed his hand from his lips. When the Hearse started to slow down he looked out the window again. "Ah, we're finally here."

Cloud instinctively licked at the spot Sephiroth had touched. Then he peered out his window to see where they had arrived. Both brows rose.

Directly ahead, rollercoasters zoomed high above on their assigned tracks. Bright lights outlined the shapes of other mechanical-based attractions, including a Ferris wheel that spun in slow circles. Fueled by mako energy, their orbs of lights danced and dissipated in the air as rides dived, spun, and turned.

Cloud had never seen a livelier place than this before. It displayed a spectrum of wild rainbow colors. It was also fucking _huge_, practically dominating the entire section of this District. Littered across the sky appeared animated holographic images. They consisted mostly of Moogles and Chocobos. Cloud could see children and other attendees carrying stuffed animals and balloons of them, along with the image of a muscular built man with a peculiar, curled mustache that rivaled Mr. Mukki's.

Cloud turned back to Sephiroth. "A carnival? You're taking me to a carnival?"

Sephiroth nodded. "It's sponsored by the Golden Saucer at Corel. They've just unveiled their latest attraction, the Round Square, to the general public. Dio, owner of the Golden Saucer, decided to bring a taste of the Golden Saucer to Midgar in an effort to promote his theme park's new addition. Dio's carnival will only be here until spring."

"Round Square, eh?" Zack's voice reached them again, momentarily interrupting their conversation, "Doesn't that sound like an oxymoron or something, Sephiroth?"

Angeal silently shook his head and massaged the temples of his head.

"Incredible," muttered Genesis next, "A moron is the one to address an oxymoron. That, in itself, is an oxymoron." He took another sip of his hot drink.

"I heard that, princess," Zack yelled back from the driver's seat.

Ignoring their ongoing theatrics, Sephiroth nodded at the view outside their window and mentioned to Cloud, "It seemed appropriate bringing you here before parting ways. An energetic man your age can appreciate the presence of high velocity and adrenaline rushes, yes?"

A grin slipped across Cloud's face.

Within a short amount of time, the party wagon found a spot close to the carnival. Specks of rain still fell from the sky. Zack shielded his head with a hoodie while Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis pulled out their umbrellas. Only Cloud stood open in the rain. Aside from the biker jacket he wore, he didn't bring anything else for the wet weather nor was he bothered by it. Embracing the opened night sky, he let the rain drops fall on his face.

"You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy..." Genesis started close by.

"You're one to talk to," Angeal commented with a lighthearted chuckle. "We're from Banora. Or have you forgotten?"

"Oh, how I desperately try…"

"Banora?" Cloud looked at both Hosts. "As in Banora Village? You two are from there? I know about that place. It's famous for its Banora White Apple Juice. It's the best."

Angeal smiled and glanced at Genesis. "Hear that? He likes the juice."

Genesis responded with silence. His digital watch beeped. Glaring at it, the Host quietly sneered as he retrieved a small bottle from his coat's pocket. He popped open the capsule and gulped down several pills. Then he walked past Cloud and headed for the carnival's entrance.

Angeal and Sephiroth exchanged a look before following him. Cloud and Zack stayed a few steps behind.

"You'll get used to him," Zack told Cloud as they walked side-by-side, noticing the frown on his face. He removed an e-cig from a chest pocket and lit it up. "Genesis is like that with every new client. He's a cold fish to anyone he doesn't know. Hell, it took him ages to warm up to _me_."

"Sounds like a delightful guy to have around," Cloud replied deadpanned.

"_Very_ delightful."

Both boys locked eyes with each other and laughed.

Cloud and his new acquaintances arrived outside the entrance's massive gate. He could already smell the buttery aroma of fresh popcorn and cotton candy in the air. A long line of people stood and waited by the carnival's entrance. Surprisingly, his group was able to enter without any issues.

Two tall bodyguards stepped aside as they passed through the gates. Cloud looked back at the long line of people they left behind, feeling a pang of guilt for stepping ahead of them. He glanced at Sephiroth.

"How come we get the special treatment?"

The fine black lace of Sephiroth's umbrella hung over his head, creating shadows across his delicate yet prominent features. Only the brilliance of his strange green eyes appeared from the darkness. "Dio is close friends with Angeal. Both possess _noble_ personalities. Plus, there's the matter of Dio losing a match to Angeal at the Golden Saucer's Battle Square last month. This is compensation."

"I can't imagine any guy being strong enough to take down Angeal," Cloud admitted, looking at the big man's direction.

Sephiroth softly scoffed underneath his umbrella but said nothing.

Beyond the gates, the noise of the populace and carnival's rides grew louder. Various high-pitched melodies clashed together. There must've been thousands of attendees present despite the chilly wet weather. An impulsive energy filled the air here. Anxious children raced up and down to the next ride. Attractions flew past Cloud at record speed, sending out a gush of wind and sprinkled rain in their wake.

By the time they reached a heavily populated conjunction point, Cloud slowed down. The ongoing chaos of the carnival made him dizzy while the cannabis he'd just smoked caused his legs and arms to feel heavy. Faces and objects blurred, morphing into bizarre shapes. Sounds drifted in and out of hearing range. Cloud tried to keep pace with Sephiroth and the Hosts but fell behind. His legs might as well have been made out of wet clay.

Taking several short shallow breathes, Cloud rested by a kiosk that displayed the amusement park's layout. He tried to realign his senses but his moment of respite was interrupted by a giant Moogle with a small black cat riding on top of it. It approached Cloud from behind. Catching him by surprise, the country boy yelped when it hugged him hard.

"Greetings!" the cat announced through its giant megaphone.

Cloud realized it was one of the amusement park's mascots. For a moment, he thought this bizarre image of a crown-wearing cat, riding a Moogle, was the result of his drug-induced mind.

The mascot chuckled. "Whoopsie! For a moment, I thought I caught a Chocobo. Nice hair."

Still held in its tight hug, Cloud wanted to punch the mascot. It looked stupid anyway – which idiot thought up _this_ design? Apparently, he wasn't the only one getting high in this town.

Not far away, Zack emerged from the crowd. His tensed expression relaxed when his eyes located Cloud. He took several steps forward but paused, blinking several times at the strange scene before him.

"The name's Cait Sith," the mascot introduced itself to Cloud. "I'm a fortune teller in this neck of the woods. Should I tell you your future?"

Cloud visibly winced when the cat yelled directly into his ear with its megaphone again. He let out a grunt. "Not interested. And if you don't get your grubby paws off of me, I can tell you _your_ future. It's not a pretty one."

"Yikes! Maybe for another day then." Cait Sith quickly let Cloud go. He blew up a large Moogle-shaped balloon afterward and offered it to him.

Cloud glowered at the big mascot but refrained from slapping the balloon away. He noticed Zack nearby and decided it was best to join him. The two boys stood side-by-side and watched the mascot bounce off, eventually disappearing into the crowd.

"That was fucking weird…" Cloud admitted.

With a smirk on his face, Zack shook his head. "Sheesh. We leave you out of our sights for _one_ second and you're already getting into a scuffle with a giant Moogle and a talking cat."

"Shut up," was all Cloud could mutter back.

Without asking permission, Zack grabbed his hand and led him off to another direction. They squeezed, pushed, and sidestepped their way to a more opened area. Cloud soon spotted the other Hosts up ahead. They shielded themselves from the light rain with their umbrellas while they waited by a Drop Tower attraction.

The first one to speak was Genesis. He twirled his umbrella once before he turned to Sephiroth. "It'd be wise to strap your boy to a baby carriage before he jets off on his own again, lest you be charged for child negligence."

Cloud bit into his lower lip, protesting the urge to make a snappy response – not that he could anyway since he lacked that creative wit. Sephiroth, meanwhile, approached him.

"This entire affair is intended for us to get to know each other better." Sephiroth waited for Zack to step aside. Then he stood before Cloud. Underneath his umbrella, the silver-haired Host smiled. "An interesting start so far, I must say."

"My head won't stop spinning," Cloud blurted out and rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb. Whatever Sephiroth had given him, it far exceeded anything he'd ever taken. "The world keeps warping – if that makes any sense?"

Zack snorted aloud but immediately stopped when Angeal shot him a look.

"No matter." Sephiroth slipped an arm around Cloud's waist and closed the gap between them. His thumb gently rubbed the side of the boy's hip. "You'll eventually adjust. In the meantime, we will take things slow."

Cloud lowered his hand from his eyes. The spot where Sephiroth touched tingled. Looking up at the Host, Cloud caught his breath as green light radiated back to him. He nodded in silence.

"Good." Sephiroth faced his other companions. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"

Zack whooped. "_Finally_. Time to _own_ this place."

For Cloud, his evening became an assortment of colorful, wild imagery – from the deviled faces plastered on terrifying roller coasters to the clown freaks that stalked the grounds as hired entertainers. The world itself moved in a slow dreamlike state. Cloud wasn't sure if he was being paranoid or hyper aware. Drops of rain water echoed louder in his ears. Reflections and lights visually echoed around him. Sometimes they passed through him like electrical phantoms. Then there were the strings of green that emanated from each person he came across. Spreading out like tentacles, they stretched and thrashed at all directions.

Cloud mentioned the weird green lights to Zack at some point. The young attractive Host merely snickered and told him to pass him the pipe next time.

Aside from the freaky lights, Cloud enjoyed tonight's funfest. His PHS finally returned to him, he recorded his adventures and took many selfies. Typically, it was Zack who jumped at the chance to enter a ride or participate in a game of chance and skill. Whenever that happened he'd drag Cloud along. Angeal and Genesis usually followed suit. The latter man proved to be the most competitive of the group. Even when Genesis insisted the games and attractions were _trivial nonsense_ and a waste of his valuable time, he'd jump at the chance to take on the more difficult challenges, if only to prove he was the best at them.

_Humble much?_ Cloud thought, half annoyed but also half impressed by the man's winning streak.

As for Sephiroth, he rarely participated. His tall dark figure could always be seen at the corner of Cloud's eyes though. Just when he thought he was alone he could sense Sephiroth nearby.

Watching… The Host was always watching.

It was when Cloud later entered the Ferris wheel that they finally shared a moment together. Beyond the glassed window of their cabin, the moon glowed bright, revealing desolate land beyond the metal Plate. Rain fell in thicker drops as they slowly ascended to the highest point on the Ferris wheel. With lucid-coated half-lidded eyes, Cloud watched the mechanical world of the Plate become engulfed by cobwebs of green. Those eerie lights became more apparent at this high elevation. Their intertwined glows amazed and terrified him.

"I still can't distinguish reality from fantasy," Cloud confessed. He rested the back of his head against the glass. A moan escaped his throat as he looked ahead and watched Sephiroth's hands work their magic.

The Host sat across him; Cloud's left foot on his lap. His bare hands massaged it, smoothing out rough edges and blemished sore spots. Without looking up, Sephiroth murmured back, "And who says this is reality? Perhaps the waking world is the dream and our dream is the waking world."

Whether his words were intended as a joke or an oddball assessment brought on by Sephiroth's own lethargic state, Cloud thought it was funny. He had thought the same damn thing too at some point. At the moment, however, he couldn't find it in himself to dive deeper into the philosophical question. The Host's hands hit all the right spots. Cloud hadn't realized how much walking he did tonight until now.

Sephiroth really did give incredible foot massages.

At the Ferris wheel, it was just the two of them. The others had disappeared to give them space. Cloud was admittedly glad. Since their bath together, the mental picture of Sephiroth's marvelous naked body had stayed with him. Their intertwined bare forms… Cloud was eager to have the Host alone to himself. He tentatively wished their sly glances and light touches would lead to something more as the night progressed.

Perhaps it was the weed or it was the sight of Sephiroth's silver hair falling over his face like that, whatever it was Cloud felt inspired and bold enough to stretch his left foot further out. He slid it along Sephiroth's thigh. His fat toe managed to faintly touch the soft shape between the Host's legs. This prompted Sephiroth to glance up at him with one silvery brow raised.

"Sorry, I had a leg cramp," Cloud lied.

Sephiroth grew quiet. His green eyes stayed on him. Then he resumed his previous task, meticulously tracing lines and shapes with his fingers. The cheap blue ring on his pinky shined.

Cloud bit his lower lip, slightly disappointed that his coy advance either went unnoticed or unrewarded – it was hard to tell with Sephiroth. Cloud continued to watch his Host, however, absorbing his perfect porcelain-like features. Of everyone, he noticed that Sephiroth shined the brightest. The outline of his form emitted a strong green aura. Tentacles of green light expanded and stretched out to Cloud.

"Seriously, what did you give me?" The question slipped out of Cloud's mouth before he realized it. Yet, as his eyes stayed fixated on Sephiroth's strings of light, he needed to know why this mind-trip felt intense. "I've been lit before. This feels… different."

"I don't doubt it." Sephiroth briefly stopped massaging Cloud's foot. One hand reached into his coat's pocket to pull out a small bag of grass. He offered it to him.

With the tiny bag on his palm, Cloud noticed a green light emanating from it.

"It is cannabis laced with mako," Sephiroth revealed.

"Mako?" Cloud blinked only once. "As in… the same stuff our reactors pump out?"

"Yes." When Cloud's eyes widened, Sephiroth shifted his head to one side. "No need to be alarmed. There is only a minuscule amount of potent mako in this mixture – nowhere near enough to give you any lasting effects. But it is enough to temporarily open the door and unveil some incredible secrets. Whether those secrets are real or fantasy, however, that is for you to decide."

Cloud's eyes wandered back to the view outside his cabin's window. He saw the cobwebs of lights. This explained the green smoke from Sephiroth's pipe and the strong citrus smell he had detected earlier. It was mako – _fucking mako_. No wonder his delirious mind saw things that weren't there. In silence, Cloud returned the bag of weed to Sephiroth, unsure if it was a good idea to smoke anymore of it.

"You breathe this every day," Sephiroth mentioned, as if reading his mind. He stuffed the bag into his coat. "Don't tell me you're suddenly spooked by the prospect of _smoking_ it."

Recalling the conversation he had with Biggs ages ago over the safety of mako, Cloud became aware of his own contradictions.

"Do you enjoy working as a Host?" Cloud asked, deciding to change the subject. He nearly winced at the lame question that spilled out of his mouth just now – god, his social skills needed work.

To the Host's credit, Sephiroth appeared more amused than annoyed. He glanced down at Cloud's foot. Having properly tended to them after their bath, he surveyed his work. The nails were polished and cut.

"I'm bored of it actually," Sephiroth finally admitted without looking up. "I have been for several years."

Cloud pursed his lips. Even though it wasn't any of his business, he pressed: "Why continue working at a job you don't like then?"

Sephiroth glanced up with only his eyes. "Why continue working at a job_ you_ don't like?"

Cloud made a sound that resembled something between a grunt and a snort. Sephiroth's response struck deep and reeked of irony. The Host already knew how much he hated his job at Chocobo Chow. It was why the assistant manager position Mr. Mukki had offered still remained up in the air.

Contemplating over Sephiroth's reasons for still being a Host, Cloud recalled his stance on love and wondered if the life of a Host had jaded him enough to want out of it. Even this incredible foot massage and the intimate bath before that were likely one of many boring jobs he had to put up with. Thinking that, Cloud decided not to be a burden anymore.

"Thanks, I feel a lot better," Cloud said as he began pulling his foot back.

In one swift move, Sephiroth's hand reached out and clasped onto his ankle. His action was lighting quick. Sephiroth gently placed it back on his lap again. "I'm not done with this yet. Remain still."

Cloud blinked but didn't move.

"You still haven't told me why you work at a place you loathe," Sephiroth reminded him as he resumed his foot massage. For whatever reason, his touches lingered over his skin a bit longer.

"It's to pay the bills," Cloud reluctantly admitted.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I imagine."

"I'm enlisting in Shinra this year though," Cloud clarified next. _Trying_ to, he wanted to add but kept that depressing bit to himself.

"_Shinra_…" Sephiroth slowly repeated. His hands paused.

"Yeah, Shinra Electric Power Company. You know, the guys running this show?"

Green eyes made contact with Cloud's blue pair. "So you are among the hopeful men who came to this city for glory and prestige. Is that right?"

Cloud detected a hint of sarcasm in Sephiroth's tone. "Yeah. I came for the Tsviets."

"I figured as much. A lot of foolish boys do."

_Foolish boys?_ Cloud narrowed his eyes. He tried to suppress the frown on his face but couldn't help it. The Host didn't sound impressed by Shinra's elite force or his plans to join them. Worse, Sephiroth had clumped him with the rest of the dreamers and wannabes – _the foolish boys_. Cloud withdrew his foot before the man got the chance to grab it again. Retrieving his abandoned socks and boots from the cabin's metal-plated flooring, he ignored Sephiroth's chuckle.

"Have I offended you?" The Host looked directly at Cloud as he put on his leather gloves. "My apologies. I just believe you would be better off pursuing another goal, boy."

This made Cloud roll his eyes. He quickly slipped on his socks and got to work on his boots. After a while, he mumbled, "You're starting to sound like my mother…"

_Mother_, Cloud realized at the back of his head. Damn, he forgot to call her today. She probably thought he was lying naked and dead in some shady alley by now…

"Regardless, Shinra shelters and buries a lot of secrets behind its steel walls, _many_ of them," resumed Sephiroth, oblivious to the boy's wayward thoughts. "If you are not careful, you might become one of them."

The frown on Cloud's face deepened. Becoming a super soldier like Weiss served as his life-long dream. He refused to let a man working the entertainment circuit tell him what to do.

Cloud laced up his last boot and secured it with a firm tie-knot. Glaring up at Sephiroth, he barked back, "The hell do you know anyway? You're just a Host, a _hired_ _boyfriend_. As if you know anything about Shinra or what I should do with my life."

Another laugh came from Sephiroth, this time a low and deep one. The light in his eyes appeared less intense now. "Even a treasure-trove can be found in the least likely of places…"

"Whatever. I told you my reason for putting up with my job. So what's your excuse?"

Sephiroth paused for a moment. Appearing deep in thought, his eyes drifted to some spot on the cabin's ceiling. When his response finally came, it was both brief and vague: "Personal reasons."

"Personal reasons? What kind?"

Sephiroth stared at Cloud. His head tilted to one side. "You're a persistent one, aren't you?"

"Only when I need to be."

Much to Cloud's dismay, the Ferris wheel ride started to come to an end before their conversation could go any further. When their cabin reached ground level Sephiroth grabbed his umbrella. Exiting now, he shielded both of them from the rain.

A part of Cloud was peeved by Sephiroth's evasiveness. He didn't appreciate the lecture regarding Shinra either – fuck, he heard enough of it from mom. Cloud debated on whether or not to call it a night. He had an early shift tomorrow anyway. Before he got the chance to consider his options, however, the Host already set his eyes on another carnival attraction. They headed for a carousel nearby.

As with the other rides, the two of them were able to cut ahead of the line. Cloud chose a giant Behemoth as his mount. He had always harbored a fascination toward the volatile yet extraordinary animals. The Tsviets' many conquests severely reduced their numbers to the thousands, drawing them closer toward extinction. Still, they remained impressive, stubborn beasts. They didn't go down without a fight. Cloud heard they could grow as enormous as buildings.

Cloud's body froze when Sephiroth slipped behind him now, surprisingly joining him on the Behemoth. The air instantly filled with the familiar scent of vanilla and rose. He expected the Host to be on his own mount. Sephiroth continued to hold his umbrella over his head, shielding his face from the public eye, but wrapped his free arm around Cloud's waist.

The ride began and music played. Cloud held onto the pole attached to his mount as they repeatedly rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Thankfully, the ride was too slow to set off his motion sickness.

Pressed close to each other, the Host's warmth radiated back to him. It was impossible to ignore, especially when Cloud could also feel the weight of Sephiroth's gloved hand on his lap. A tingling sensation surged throughout his body. Desperate to distract himself from it, he focused on a question that had been nagging him for a while now.

"So, what's the deal between you and the kid?" Cloud started. "I was supposed to meet him tonight."

Observing the night sky above them, Sephiroth kept silent. The rain temporarily stopped.

When no answer came, Cloud stared at the gloved hand on his lap and added, "You're wearing his ring. That boy has the same silver hair and color of eyes you do. His name is Sephiroth. But… your name is also Sephiroth. Are you brothers or something? Named the same name? What gives?"

"Yes, that does deserve an explanation," the Host quietly replied at last. His voice sounded distant. "However, as I mentioned before, it's complicated. You might not… understand."

"Try me."

"If you insist…" There was a long pause. Sephiroth leaned closer to Cloud's ear from behind. Slowly, he whispered, "The child and I… We are one and the same."

Taking several seconds to break down his words, Cloud found himself baffled. Sephiroth was right: he didn't understand. _One and the same?_ Did that mean they were brothers after all? Frowning, Cloud grew irritated. He muttered, "Fine. Whatever. Don't answer my question."

"But I have answered your question."

"No. You didn't. Hell, you still haven't answered my _other_ question."

"And which question was that, pray tell?"

"Why are you still a Host if you find it boring?"

Sephiroth chuckled. "Your persistence is both vexing and amicable."

"So is your ability to avoid my questions."

Sephiroth readjusted himself on the mount, pressing himself even closer to Cloud. "Very well. If it is specifics you desire, then I shall provide you the details."

Keeping still, Cloud couldn't help but notice that each time the Host spoke, his breath blew against his ear. He tried to ignore the peculiar sensations that arose from their close proximity. Fidgeting with the pole in front of him, Cloud absently scrapped paint off it with his fingernails.

"It is for a connection," Sephiroth at last admitted.

"Connection?"

"Solitude was all I knew as a child," elaborated the other man. "It was only when taking on the role of a Host in my later years that I learned to _appreciate_ the presence of another. And crave for a connection."

"So, despite being bored with your job, you stuck around anyway to gain a _connection_."

"Exactly."

"But I thought you didn't believe in love…"

"I don't."

"But isn't it the same thing? Isn't craving for a connection the same as craving for love?"

"Not necessarily. Mutual pain can also bind two kindred spirits together."

The carousel resumed its repetitive course. Cloud watched the world spin in slow circles. He had trouble focusing on their conversation. Each time their mount rose and fell, Sephiroth's hand drew closer and closer to the warmest spot on his body.

When Cloud spoke again, his voice sounded slow and hoarse. "So you want someone who can connect with your… _pain_?"

"Yes."

Cloud made a face. "That's kinda fucked up. No offense."

"None taken."

"I'm no love expert, but at some point someone bound by pain will break."

"I suppose so. That would explain why the connections I've established so far have been met with little to no success. They either become contrived or lead to nowhere."

At the mention of failed past connections, a tight knot developed at the pit of Cloud's stomach. A part of him wondered if the other clients had become the Host's lovers in his quest to _connect_. How many relationships went beyond the status quos of his job? Did they see him naked and bathe with him too?

Why did any of this annoy him?

Cloud caught a glimpse of Sephiroth's silvery hair on his shoulder. It shimmered against the colorful lights. He was tempted to tuck it away, to hide that beautiful hair from the public's eye – only he should be allowed to see this man's wondrous secrets.

Sephiroth's lips lightly pressed against the nape of Cloud's neck when he mentioned above the carousel music, "I confess: I've yet to find someone who can endure as much pain as I have. They break too easily for my personal tastes."

Cloud shuddered from his words and the mouth on his neck. He had trouble speaking above a murmur now. "That sounds wrong."

"Wrong?" Sephiroth paused. His hand slid higher up Cloud's lap, lightly grazing the fabric of his jeans. "You think my actions and words are _wrong_?"

Cloud tried to speak, only to discover his voice got stuck somewhere at the lump of his throat. The tip of his budding member stirred.

"Perhaps it's a difference in perspective," Sephiroth offered later, "The same could be said about love too, you know. Much like pain can break someone, love can drive a sane man mad."

"I guess…" Cloud exhaled slowly.

As they moved together in unison on the mount, Sephiroth pressed his cheek against Cloud's. "We are divided pieces, you and I. We are constantly seeking to connect, whether by love or by pain. Only a force of nature can indefinitely bring us together."

"A force of nature…" Cloud briefly closed his eyes, enjoying the cool smoothness of Sephiroth's cheek. Not a speck of unwanted facial hair was on him. Nor did he smell of artificial chemicals from aftershave. He was perfect. "What do you mean by a force a nature? Like what?"

"Suppose the planet was going to be destroyed tomorrow. How would you feel about it?"

"Terrified, I guess. Sad…"

"Hm, yes. That would be an understandable reaction, wouldn't it?"

"Of course. You wouldn't feel that way?"

"Not at all," Sephiroth declared without a moment of hesitation. "Disasters unite pieces together. Tragedy strikes and, suddenly, everyone realizes they belong together. They're connected by each other's pain. But there's more to that."

Quiet, Cloud opened his eyes and waited for him to continue.

Sephiroth slightly pulled his face away from Cloud's. His voice carried stronger now. "Death is only a transition to the eternal. Gaia followers, for example, believe that in the event of a worldwide disaster the Lifestream would gather every soul. We'd be connected to everyone and everything in the universe, for all eternity."

The Lifestream. Cloud recalled similar words spoken by his instructor, Mr. Bugenhagen. The old man had mentioned that the Lifestream was the source and convergence of all creation.

"In death and pain, we find connection," stated the Host. "All becomes one."

"All becomes one…" Cloud reflected back softly.

A tender smile stretched across the beautiful man's mouth. "Isn't that a wonderful concept?"

Staring at the spinning world around them, Cloud's brows drew closer together. He leaned back against Sephiroth. With a sigh, he answered, "Not really. I'd rather be alive. I'll deal with the _afterlife_ and _eternity_ when I get there."

For whatever reason, this whole conversation brought Cloud back to the night of his birthday. Memories of the Shinra officer Sephiroth had been with crossed his mind. He recalled the grisly detail of her burnt nipple – the crazed ecstatic look on her eyes. Cloud finally understood what _that_ was about. It was for a connection, a connection brought on by pain. Cloud's expression contorted to something of a grimace. He turned his head slightly back to his Host.

"Sephiroth…" Cloud began, "I'm not the type who _breaks_ easily. I'm not like your other clients either. If you try to burn my nipples off or pull any stunts like that on me, I'll chop and smash your balls."

Sephiroth laughed. His sound reverberated. "You _are_ magnificent, boy."

Whether that comment served as a compliment or a condescending response, Cloud didn't know nor care. His thoughts still lingered back to the Shinra Officer. Looking worse for wear, she seemed fixated on a woman who threatened to take Sephiroth away from her. Cloud wondered if this was the result of making a connection by pain. If love aspired madness, then pain surely aspired something worse in people.

A part of Cloud considered bringing the Shinra officer up to Sephiroth – he didn't know what became of her after he had called the IMs. He wanted to warn the Host about the woman's sick condition. However, his train of thoughts stopped when the hand on his leg slid to his inner thigh.

Cloud's breath hitched; Sephiroth's gloved finger drew an invisible line that ran parallel to his cock. By now, it had stretched to several inches in his jeans. It budged out; sensitive, hard, and warm.

"You know, it just occurred to me…" the Host began in a casual tone, "if we're to continue seeing each other, having Stabby tend to your clothes while I bathe you may tax his patience. I'd like to acquire your body measurements at some point."

"…B-body measurements?" Cloud took a thick swallow when the Host's finger drew dreadfully close to his pulpy tip. "For what?"

"Clothes. It may be best to have clothes set aside for you at Loveless. You can switch into them during your visits."

Cloud's face rushed with color. The knuckles of his hands turned white as he clutched onto the mount's pole. Biting his lower lip, he knew he'd come away from this with a serious hard-on, just like the last time when they bathed together. The self-proclaimed _humanist_ enjoyed pushing his buttons, particularly the one that swelled with blood and heat.

"Not interested," Cloud finally said, trying to regain some composure. "I don't have the funds for it anyway."

"This will be my expense." Sephiroth pressed his cheek against Cloud's again. "I want you proper when you see me. I don't want you smelling as if you'd bathed in piss and shit all day – which is likely the case, given the Slums' poor water quality down there."

"Even if you covered the tab, I don't like being in debt to anyone."

"You won't be. The clothes stay at my personal quarters. Consider them on loan." Sephiroth applied a miniscule amount of pressure on Cloud's inner thigh with the flat of his thumb. "It's a fair offer, isn't it?"

Breathing harder, Cloud couldn't fathom how Sephiroth remained so composed. His touches set his skin on fire. The Host also didn't seem to care they were in public view, surrounded by kids and elderly folks. By his own willpower, Cloud forced the cogwheels in his head to work and considered Sephiroth's proposition. He wondered what the catch was. There had to be an invisible price tag attached somewhere. Receiving free clothes from a man like Sephiroth sounded too good to be true.

The Host noticed Cloud's hesitation. "You don't approve?"

Cloud shifted in his seat. The longer Sephiroth kept his hand on his leg the more agitated and constricted his hard-on felt in his jeans. He muttered, "Even loaned items have a fee. And besides, am I gonna be stuck wearing whatever you choose?"

For Cloud, it seemed like a reasonable question to ask. He'd already given the Host free license to do whatever he _wished_ during their get-togethers. Now he'd grant him the freedom to dress him too?

"That would be a part of the arrangement, yes," Sephiroth confirmed. He set his hand lightly over Cloud's firm shape. The slow and repetitive up-and-down motion of the carousel set the speed of his faint strokes. "Of course, you are free to reject this. I only ask you have secondary clothes set aside before you see me. My nose is… _sensitive_ to certain smells."

The carousel spun; its cheerful melody rang pleasantly in the air. Colorful lights blared everywhere. In the distance, there were the squeals and laughter from eager children. Cloud sat gripping the mount's pole again. Within his jeans, his blossomed tip felt moist and sticky.

Cloud sighed. Given that Sephiroth would be the one to handle the bill, he couldn't find any more reasons to object to his plan. It sounded like a win-win for everyone. Sephiroth's volatile servant, Stabby, wouldn't have to wash his clothes and stab him to death for it. The Host's sanitary demands would be met. And Cloud didn't have to pay a damn thing or manage a second set of clothes. It wasn't like he could properly store them anyway. If he stashed them at Chocobo Chow, Ele' and the others would start to ask questions if they discovered them. Having those clothes smell like Chocobo Chow Spicy Wings would likely irritate the Host too.

"Well? Do you accept my proposal?" the Host pressed again. "Shall I acquire your body measurements?"

Feeling dizzy, Cloud tried to steady himself on the mount. It was hard to think straight when every inch of his body screamed for more contact and more speed. The unhurried pace of the carousel's up-and-down motion only worsened his condition.

Taking a dry swallow, Cloud barely got out a "…Fine. Whatever."

It was around this time the carousel slowed down. Its lively melody continued to play in the background as it came to a stop. The ride was over. While the attendees started to pile out, Cloud frowned when Sephiroth removed his hand and promptly got off their mount as well.

"Perfect," the taller man said and kept the umbrella over his head. His green eyes gleamed. "I knew we'd reach an agreement. Let's leave this place now. That ride was a dull affair anyway."

Too caught up by his own compromised state, Cloud couldn't move. The tight fabric of his jeans rubbed against his sensitive muscle any time he budged. Staring at Sephiroth, Cloud couldn't find the appropriate words to say right away. _Frustration_ came to mind, though.

He knew the Host was to blame for his raging hard-on. This was the second time he left him in a sorry state tonight. It had to be intentional. _Hosts are like giant cock-teasers_, Cloud recalled Ele' tell him once, _they'll flirt and maybe get a bit physical to plant the illusion to their clients that they have a chance. But they won't give it up. They want their clients desperate and coming back for more._

Not one to whine, Cloud was reluctant to make his disappointment known, especially when Sephiroth's actions might've been all a part of a plan – a plan to keep him _coming back for more_. Cloud didn't want to become one of those needy, sexually hungry clients that got played. Nor did he want to admit to his own juvenile desires. And yet, as Cloud sat with a growing heat between his legs, the ongoing physical caresses that had transpired between them throughout the evening started to get to him. Even their fateful dance together at Club LIFESTREAM many nights ago had resulted in similar unrequited circumstances.

"Are you seriously going to leave me like this again?" Cloud griped quietly. He avoided eye-contact but kept the level of his voice consistent.

"_Leave you like this again_?" The Host faced his direction and took a step forward. "Curious, what do you mean by that?"

Cloud's cheeks instantly flushed. He forced himself to dismount. "You know what I mean, Sephiroth. You're a Host. You know what you're doing to me."

Helping him down, Sephiroth smiled. "Clarify for me."

"Don't make me say it out loud."

"Why not?"

The more Sephiroth danced around the issue, the more flustered Cloud became. His voice withdrew to a deep, hard tone. It took great effort to meet Sephiroth's green penetrating gaze. "You know why I can't. It's fucking embarrassing."

The tall, dark clad figure laughed. His expression stayed hidden under the shadow of his umbrella but his laugh carried a lively higher-pitched sound. He clearly found Cloud's words to be genuinely funny.

"I think it's time I head home," Cloud declared, trying to shut him up. He took a step back to put some distance between them. "I can catch the bus to reach the train platform myself. Good night."

Without looking back at the Host, Cloud stepped down from the carousel's platform and exited through a pair of gates. His cheeks burned as he teetered between feeling humiliated and feeling pissed. The chilly air did little to squelch his fire. Even when the rain started up again, he didn't care about getting soaked.

Cloud had no idea where he was but didn't want to stop walking. He'd eventually discovered the path that lead out of the carnival. Meanwhile, Sephiroth was both silent and quick. Cloud didn't realize he already stood by his side until he smelled vanilla and rose in the air and heard the velvet sound of the Host's beautiful, damning voice.

"I'd suspected you were sensitive, boy. But not to this extent."

Sephiroth's amused tone made Cloud grit his teeth even more. He shoved his hands deep into his jacket's pockets and kept his eyes straight on the crowded path ahead. "Stop calling me _boy_, I'm a man. And I'm not sensitive. I just need to go home now. I got an early shift tomorrow. And a hot date."

Cloud didn't know why he needed to share that last bit of information. Perhaps it was his own pathetic attempt of getting back at the attractive man who had been pulling his strings all night long. Or perhaps it was to prove to himself that he wasn't a big loser that needed a Host to get him off. Regardless, the long silence that followed afterward gave Cloud a sense of victory. He soon reached a congested spot up ahead and used that as an opportunity to ditch Sephiroth.


	21. House of Horrors

**Author's Note:** _Cloud gets his wish but learns the age-old lesson of 'be careful what you wish for'. PLENTY of warnings for this chapter, my minions: strong sexual content, asphyxiation, Lolita-styled themes, gore. Enter at your peril._

* * *

CHAPTER 20: House of Horrors

Ditching the silver-haired Host proved more difficult than Cloud initially thought. Thunder cracked from the sky; specks of rain dropped thicker. His hands deep in his jacket's pockets, he increased his walk's pace and shoved past a mascot and woman in the middle of a selfie photo shoot. No matter how far he went or how fast he moved, however, the familiar dark figure loomed at the corner of his eyes. Sephiroth's tall ominous reflection danced across the shiny surfaces of windows and metals.

Cloud breathed out. Balloons, people, and carnival rides impeded much of his vision but he could still spot the Host in the midst of the chaos. Even as thousands of attendees offered him coverage, Sephiroth somehow found him. He'd successfully pluck him from the crowd; bizarre green eyes shining from the distance. The Host was relentless. Cloud suspected Sephiroth could catch up to him at any time. Experience as a hunter taught him to recognize the telltale signs of a cat-and-mouse game.

This was a hunt.

It would've been so much easier to confront Sephiroth and directly tell him to fuck off, that he wanted to be left alone. But Cloud couldn't. The constant _cock teasing_ tonight had left him impatient and frustrated. He also refused to admit he'd become someone's sport. The idea that a greater hunter prowled these streets besides him irritated the Nibelheim native even more. Quietly cursing in his Nibel tongue, Cloud became more and more determined to win this game of skill and chance.

Basic instincts set in. An adrenaline rush gave Cloud the fuel he needed to keep moving. His body squeezed through groups of people and edged toward opened spaces. His agility and speed played in his favor, seamlessly moving into the chaos as silently and fast as he could. He only broke into a run whenever the opportunity for it came up. Even then, he stuck to the shadows and condensed spots, using the environment to conceal him. Cloud's steel blue eyes darted to nearby signs and attractions, meanwhile. He tried to locate the way back to the carnival's huge entrance gates.

At some point, Cloud no longer spotted Sephiroth among the crowd or in his peripheral view. A corner of his mouth rose at the thought that he finally lost him and won this cat-and-mouse chase. Perhaps the _cat_ had given up. Pausing, Cloud stood in the middle of a crowded spot by the food court. He wanted to check his surroundings one more time to confirm Sephiroth's absence. The green swirly lights caused by the mako-infused drug in his system brightened and intensified, however. He suddenly felt dizzy. Stumbling backwards, he barely managed to stay on his feet.

Cloud blinked several times. Colorful balloons appeared everywhere. He could hear the laughter from pasty-white clowns echo in each direction. The carnival rides spun around him. Faster and faster they went. Disoriented, Cloud covered his mouth. His throat burned from an acidic flavor of something he'd eaten earlier. He swallowed it back down with a grimace.

It wasn't a good idea to stay out in the open like this for long, Cloud decided. His best chance at making sure he lost Sephiroth was to retreat inside one of the attractions and wait it out for a while. Turning to the nearest place to hide in, Cloud frowned when he discovered a three-storied haunted house.

_House of Horrors: Enter at your Peril_ read a giant billboard sign.

Its cracked windows bathed with red light. Cloud could see tall silhouettes clawing at the windows' glass from the inside. It gave the appearance of damned souls trapped, desperately wanting to get out. At the porch, a hooded figure rocked back and forth on a wooden chair. At first, Cloud mistook it for Sephiroth, thinking he had cleverly disguised himself to catch him off guard. The seated figure awkwardly turned and cackled at him, however. Its overdramatic bellowing noise indicated it was a mechanical prop. It remained seated while Cloud took his first steps inside the dimly lit attraction.

As soon as he entered, he was greeted by a cracked female voice that echoed from the darkness. "_Ah, what's this? A lamb has arrived at our doorsteps?_ _Oh, my! Come, come, little lamb. You are welcomed. Alas, a firm warning for you, little lamb: you may become a permanent resident here. Ha, ha, ha!_"

Foreboding music and bloodcurdling screams accompanied Cloud as he ventured into the haunted house. Based off a hillbilly hoarder's home, there was clutter everywhere. Green strobe lights revealed glimpses of fake rats, cockroaches, and cobwebs. Stacks of newspapers and books filled up wooden shelves while worms spilled out of pots and dishes in the kitchen area. Somewhere in the close distance, a blaring horn blew loudly. Vague shadows emerged here and there from inside the gaps of walls and floor panels. At times, an actor, dressed in dirty overalls and donned in a bloodied mask, would pop out of a hole and lunge at him with a fake chainsaw.

"_Fuck…_" Cloud nearly bit his tongue as he backed away.

He mentally kicked himself for choosing _this_ attraction as his hide-out spot. Thankfully, other attendees explored the haunted house with him. Cloud followed the largest group. Trying to blend in, he kept to himself. His eyes darted left to right as he dreaded the possibility of seeing a certain tall dark figure here.

The uneven floor boards creaked with each step Cloud took. He traveled with the others to a dining area where the walls bled with fake blood. A family of seven sat there. Each of them wore enormous-sized Goblin masks; a red substance outlined the shapes of their grotesque mouths. Dismembered human remains were scattered across a long wooden table with lit candles. At the center of the dining table, a female actor lay tied and screaming. She begged the group to save her. Cloud bit into his lower lip. The helpless woman's cries for help sounded eerily similar to Tifa's scream when she fell off the bridge.

While the pack of adventure-goers took pictures of the deranged setup with their PHS devices, Cloud's own phone vibrated in his pocket. Returned to him when he arrived at the carnival, he'd nearly forgotten about it. He contemplated calling Ele' to pick him up but noticed a new text message from an unknown number.

**Unknown (11:02PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo, where are you going, Chocobo? You flap your wings and aim for the sky. Silly bird, don'tcha know you can't fly?_

Cloud froze in place. He immediately recognized the verse. It was the same annoying tune that constantly played at Chocobo Chow. Cloud's pulse quickened. Already suspecting who messaged him this, his eyes checked his immediate surroundings.

Was Sephiroth nearby?

By now, the party moved onto the next area. The blond-haired youth didn't waste time following them. He positioned himself in the middle of the group, trying to hide as much of himself as he could. A dark and extremely narrow hallway covered in fake cobwebs greeted them. It seemed to go on forever. Paintings hung crookedly on dusty flower-patterned walls.

Surrounded by fake screams and ghouls that randomly popped out of the paintings, Cloud gripped his PHS. Again, he regretted coming here. This had to be one of the stupidest decisions he ever made. Given his current situation, paranoia had taken hold of his senses. Nearly everything made him jump, including the ridiculous spooky music that cracked and blared from ceiling speakers.

His phone buzzed again. Cloud glanced down at the incoming text.

**Unknown (11:07PM):** _Naughty, Chocobo, naughty. Chocobo run, run, run. To the fields of green with the blazing sun. I'll catch you yet before this day is done_.

Not since that day he'd confronted the Fenrir had Cloud experienced such raw instinctual-based emotions – or for that matter, felt so _alive_. That sensation typically came with every hunt. As such, he wasn't sure if the shiver that ran up his spine right now came from anger, anxiety, or… excitement. Holding his breath, Cloud's cock twitched inside his jeans.

Thankfully, the disorientation he had experienced earlier dissipated a little. The green lights still swirled around him but he managed to stay alert. Again, he wondered if Sephiroth was near. Did he pick up his trail? Or were these text messages intended to fuck with his head? Cloud followed the group to the next room regardless of the answers. While he doubted Sephiroth knew of his current whereabouts, the message confirmed he hadn't given up the chase. He needed to keep moving.

Blue strobe lights repeatedly flashed in the next room. Fog puffed out from all directions. Cloud blinked several times through it and crunched his nose. Cinnamon incense burned in the air. The cluster of attendees advanced forward. As they did, they encountered a mirror that ran along a large section of the floor. It created the illusion of a deep pit. Cloud's group cautiously walked around it.

Up ahead was a wooden staircase that led up to the second level of the haunted house. Cloud instantly gulped down spit when he noticed several black robed figures standing by the flight of steps. Cloaked in all black, they reminded him of Sephiroth.

Again, his PHS buzzed.

**Unknown (11:12PM): **_Chocobo, Chocobo. Why are you running, Chocobo? To reach the fields of green with the blazing sun? Oh how your feathers shine gold as you run, run, run._

One of the shadowy figures reached out to a terrified couple. Their screams prompted the whole group to make a break for the stairs. Even as his arms and legs felt heavy and slow, Cloud followed suit. His heart pounded against his chest. He maneuvered around the dark robed figures that lashed out at him, half expecting one of them to display those familiar, bizarre green eyes. The young man nearly tripped as he climbed up the stairs. Cloud cursed at his own clumsiness.

_Fuck_. He was losing his composure. Sephiroth's non-stop text messages were getting to him.

Once Cloud reached the top of the platform, he found himself at a poorly maintained library with a tall ceiling. It was another area dominated by darkness and flashing strobe lights. Cloud grew unsettled here. Multiple decayed bodies hung from above. Their skeletal figures wore tattered clothes and dangled against a light breeze. For Cloud, it reminded him of the smiling corpse in the museum. His lips went dry. Quickly, he moved passed a wall where a movie projector played a vintage black-and-white film clip on it. No sound came from it.

Following the other attendees, Cloud spotted another staircase straight ahead. It led to the final floor of the haunted house attraction. He eagerly made his way to the stairs but accidentally got too close to one of the hanging bodies. It abruptly convulsed and screamed.

"Ha ha ha! Death comes for you," the corpse declared and manically laughed at him. "Run, run, run!"

Jumping back with a yell, Cloud tripped over a stack of books on the floor and fell. His heart skipped a beat. Looking up at the suspended mechanical body that continued to laugh at him, his breath got caught midway in his throat. He wanted to puke.

It took Cloud an eternity to regain his senses again. Still on the ground, he cursed aloud and angrily tossed one of the books he had tripped over at the corpse. The phone in his hand vibrated again.

**Unknown (11:18PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo. What are you doing, Chocobo? Pounce, stomp, you wark out loud. Such a feisty beast with a great wicked sound._

Cloud froze in place.

Was… Sephiroth here? In this room? _Right now?_ From the floor, Cloud tried to stay hidden in shadow. He looked around. The non-stop rapid blinking of strobe lights started to make his head hurt. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his glossed face while his wild eyes glanced at the hanging bodies again as well as the attendees in the room with him. It was still too dark to get a good visual, not to mention, too many blind spots. As the movie projector continued to play the film, various tall shadows appeared on it.

Another incoming message came.

**Unknown (11:19PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo. You're mine now, pretty Chocobo. Hush, you squalling thing, hear what I say. We'll stalk the fields together, somehow, someday._

**Unknown (11:19PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo. You're mine now, pretty Chocobo._

**Unknown (11:19PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo. You're mine now, pretty Chocobo._

**Unknown (11:19PM):** _Chocobo, Chocobo. You're mine now, pretty Chocobo._

Weary of this room, Cloud forced himself to get on his feet. He retreated up the stairs to the House of Horrors' final floor. Hopefully, there'd be coverage there. As he dashed up the steps, a sense of irony hit Cloud. To fucking think, he used to roll his eyes at all the blond-haired bimbos that went for the stairs to escape their assailant in those horror B-movies…

At the attic of the haunted house, purple light colored the area. Stuffed toys lay scattered across the floor, including a giant white Moogle doll with beady red eyes. Thousands of scribbled drawings, all containing demented faces, covered the walls. Fake thunder struck at random intervals while the sound of actual rain outside tapped against the roof.

A large single bed sat at the middle of the room. Covered by veiled curtains, the purple light of the room illuminated through them. It revealed the silhouette of a female tied to the bed posts. Under her bed rested a large monster with claws. Its motion sensors automatically caused it to roar and thrash at anyone who came near it.

Several attendees wandered around the Children's Playroom. As a nursery piano tune played from a vintage record player, Cloud took a step forward and accidentally knocked over a block set. _Perfect_. This entire situation was getting on his nerves. He still wasn't sure if Sephiroth found him or screwed with his head to make him _think_ he did. Cloud decided to find a good spot to hide in regardless, one that would provide a good view of the layout and present people. That was the strategy he took whenever he had trouble locating an elusive predator.

Cloud discovered a closet at the corner of the attic. It had potential. He quickly frowned when he tried the doorknob and realized the entire closet was made of polystyrene foam.

"Well, ain't that just _peachy_…" the boy spat under his breath and growled.

Cloud kept his eyes at the attic's entrance. Various voices echoed from the stairs that led up here. When multiple footsteps approached, he entertained the possibility of Sephiroth being among them. Not wasting any more time, Cloud checked the closes thing next to him: the curtained bed.

The monster under it swayed back and forth, its claws lashing at him. No good. He couldn't hide down there. The monster took up too much space and made too much noise. It would undeniably draw attention to that spot – to _him_. Cloud observed the mattress next. Slightly pulling back the veiled curtains, he discovered enough room for him on the bed. He could hide under the covers and no one would think twice about it; they'd think he was either a mannequin or hired actor intended to be there.

His decision made, Cloud slipped through the curtains and closed them behind him before anyone noticed. He grimaced at the female prop chained to the mattress. With disheveled black hair and yellow beady eyes, her fake intestines spilled out. Red blood oozed out of the corner of her eyes and mouth. Her body mechanically convulsed while she laughed at him.

"Fuck it…" Cloud muttered and quickly slipped under the covers, right next to the demon-possessed girl. He made sure to shut off his phone to prevent it from buzzing.

For a while, he lay still. Cloud could hear the people outside his bed chamber move about. Their laughter or screams echoed along with the sound of thunder and haunting piano melodies. Unfortunately, Cloud couldn't see anything from under the bloodied bedsheets. He didn't know if the Host stood among them or not. For all he knew, Sephiroth was never here and his own imagination got the best of him.

Minutes passed without incident. From time to time, the monster under his bed reacted to someone approaching the bed. It roared and stirred. Cloud grew tensed each time.

Thankfully, most of the visitors kept their distance. They likely thought it was against the rules to interact with the haunted house's settings and props. The rebellious few people that _did_ check behind the curtain focused only on the demon-possessed girl. Cloud could hear the clicks of their cameras as they snapped pictures of the prop. Even as her body briefly vibrated and laughed, no one investigated the covered lumped body lying next to her.

Becoming more relaxed, Cloud got used to the growling sounds of the monster under his bed whenever some curious passerby approached. He soon debated on an appropriate time to leave. It wasn't his intention to stay here forever, constantly listening to creepy music, thunder, giggles and screams. Not to mention, the carnival would start shutting down by midnight. Cloud shifted under the covers of the bed. He wanted to turn on his PHS to check the current time.

The monster under the bed suddenly lashed out. It growled non-stop. Cloud's body became rigid when he sensed a presence close by. It was immediately followed by the scent of vanilla and rose. A moment later, the bed sheets were pulled aside.

"Found you, Chocobo," Sephiroth whispered down to him.

With the curtains closed behind him, Sephiroth's dark figure stood like an imposing statue at the foot of the bed; green eyes ablaze. The Host's voice sounded so low and smooth, Cloud barely heard it above the attic's music and sound effects. He held his breath.

"How did you find me…?" Cloud finally uttered back.

"I have my ways," was all Sephiroth said.

The Host slowly climbed on the bed and mounted Cloud. Trapping him in place with his long legs, Sephiroth propped himself up by placing an arm on both sides of Cloud's face. The Host bent his head down. His long silver hair fell over them like curtains. Their lips were just inches apart.

"That was the most thrilling experience I've had in a long, _long_ time," Sephiroth confessed with a small smile. His green eyes illuminated brightly again. "I almost lost you at one point. Almost."

Cloud breathed out, feeling disappointed he lost the game. The Host proved more persistent, patient, and clever than any predator he'd competed with. Bitterly, he barked, "Screw you. Between your stalking and text messages, you're probably the most terrifying creature in this place."

"My apologies. I can be very persistent and _creative_ whenever I want something."

Warmth spread across Cloud's face and neck. Underneath Sephiroth, he stared up at those inviting lips a few inches away. That bundle of confusing emotions and sensations resurfaced in him.

It was as if he were dealing with two facades of Sephiroth. One appeared as the cordial well-mannered man he saw right now. The other? It was a foreboding presence that tingled all of Cloud's senses with terror and exhilaration. His cock painfully curled in his jeans. He tried to readjust his position so that Sephiroth wouldn't notice it. As he did, he surprisingly discovered he wasn't the only one aroused.

"Does this… get you off?" Cloud said slowly. "Seeing me scared shitless?"

Sitting on him, Sephiroth shifted forward. His entrapped erection pushed against Cloud's. "I've noticed you make fascinating sounds and expressions whenever you're… _unglued_."

"You're weird…" Cloud barely choked back a scoff. Their close proximity and the heat that emanated from Sephiroth made it difficult to breathe slow and steady. The next words that came next were nearly lost to the background noise. "Then again, I'm weird too, I guess…"

Spooky melodies and shrieks continued to play around them. Neither man cared for them. They stared at each other, ignoring the attendees outside their bed chamber and dead-possessed girl beside them. After an absence of words had gone on long enough, Sephiroth spoke again. He shut his eyes and drew his face closer until their foreheads touched. The scent of vanilla and rose dominated the air.

"You have a date tomorrow, is that correct?"

Reveling in Sephiroth's warmth and closeness thus far, Cloud paused. The question caught him off guard. He looked up and managed to confirm his plans with a simple, "…Yeah."

"Have you decided on a suitable activity for this date?"

Cloud halfway expected Sephiroth to sound upset by this news – _Was it against the rules to date someone while seeing a Host?_ Already, he regretted disclosing this information to him earlier. It was a petty thing to do in hindsight. Thankfully, the Host man did not appear offended. If anything, he seemed to approve the set-up. The handsome Host opened his eyes and gently caressed the side of Cloud's face with a gloved hand.

"We're going to have dinner then watch Loveless," Cloud answered back at last.

"Loveless?" At this, Sephiroth's hand briefly stopped. He frowned. "That sounds absolutely _dreadful._"

"I dunno. She wanted to see it."

"She?" A silvery brow shot up. Sephiroth sounded mirthful when he openly mused, "Is this the same woman you finger-fucked before seeing me?"

The direct delivery of his question made Cloud's skin burn up several degrees higher. He couldn't come up with a response. This entire conversation sounded surreal to his ears.

As if sensing his distress, Sephiroth softly laughed. His hand settled on Cloud's neck now. He traced its long shape with a thumb, soon gliding over the protruding bump at its center. "I'm not surprised you've caught the interest of others. A beautiful boy like you would. You've certainly intrigued _me_."

"You intrigue me too…" Cloud quietly confessed, losing himself to Sephiroth's pools of green eyes and the shape of his mouth. He developed a strong desire to smash their lips together and slip his tongue deep inside. The Host was within his reach.

"It's rare I get a rise out of anything or _anyone_ these days," the Host confessed shortly after. He pulled away from Cloud and sat upright. His arms now fell to his sides. "You were correct in saying that you are different from the others."

Cloud looked up, admittedly disappointed Sephiroth was no longer in his reach.

"Perhaps I will share a secret with you," the Host contemplated in a low voice. Sephiroth started to slip off his leather black gloves. "It will be a secret I haven't shared with my other clients. Consider it an award for amusing me tonight, boy."

Directing his attention at Sephiroth's slender bare hands, Cloud admired their flawless skin and form. "What _kind_ of secret are we talking here?"

"The truth." Removing his black coat next, Sephiroth slid his arms out of the sleeves and mentioned, "Before, you asked about the child, the one who bears similar features to me. You recall this, yes?"

Cloud nodded and watched the Host fold his jacket. It'd been done with absolute care and precision.

"As I predicted," Sephiroth continued, "you did not understand my answer."

"I didn't mean to be an ass about it," Cloud mumbled back, half apologizing. "You just… confused me. _You two are one and the same?_ What does that even mean?"

"I will settle the matter for you soon. Just know that no other individual, outside my close associates, have witnessed my… _unique_ talents." Sephiroth's pale hands reached the collar of his blouse. He began undoing each button one at a time. "I'm positive Zack has mentioned something about it. Yes?"

It took Cloud a moment to respond. He watched the ivory flesh of the Host become exposed inch by inch. Even when he'd already seen Sephiroth naked, the sight of him still sent a wave of warmth down his body. Cloud miraculously rediscovered the use of his mouth and divulged, "Zack only told me you weren't like other people; you were different."

"I _am_ different. Ever since I was small, I felt different in more ways than I wanted to admit…" There was a low, solemn note in his voice. Sephiroth's eyes were set low as he removed his shirt.

Again, the Host took his time. He neatly folded his blouse before placing it to the side. Afterward, he got off Cloud and moved away to sit at the edge of the bed.

Cloud propped himself up by the elbows to get a better look at him. He didn't speak, confused by the man's current actions. Sephiroth undid the long zipper that ran the lengths of his boots and slipped them off, revealing his bare feet. When the Host's hands reached for the latch of his leather pants, Cloud's mouth opened.

"W-what are you doing…?"

Sephiroth briefly glanced back at Cloud. His silvery hair fell over one shoulder. Despite half of his face covered in shadow, his features and eyes softened. "This is… necessary."

And that was all he said. Sephiroth stood. He stayed by the edge of the bed and bent over to pull off his trousers. His long lean legs slipped out one at a time. Wearing no underwear, it was the last article on his person. Sephiroth rose to full height and stayed at his spot. He didn't move.

Because the Host's hair was so long, it obstructed a lot of his back's structure from Cloud's view. Cloud caught only glimpses of toned muscles here and there. The godly sight of this man made him hope this was _his award_. But the atmosphere felt a lot different from the time they bathed together. There was nothing sensual about it. The Host had yet to turn around. If anything, Sephiroth seemed… hesitant.

Lying on the bed, Cloud leaned toward the Host's direction. "Is something wrong?"

Fully naked, Sephiroth turned his body to face Cloud. His green eyes intensified in saturation while elegant features conveyed a blank expression. "Are you ready to see?"

_See?_ Cloud had no idea what he meant by that.

"After this, there is no turning back," Sephiroth warned. He climbed on the bed and crawled toward him until they sat inches apart from each other again. "Are you ready to _see?_"

The sight of Sephiroth's pale and perfect flesh made Cloud grip the sheets of the mattress tightly – gods, this man was _beautiful_. His face… His body… Cloud's anxious young nature couldn't help itself as he looked at him. Blue eyes followed the silvery trail that led to Sephiroth's lower regions. He could see the extent of a proud want there. The skin fully stretched out, that lovely vein he adored so much appeared.

Cloud's heated eyes met the Host's face again. "I'm ready to see whatever you want me to see."

Sephiroth bowed his head and nodded in silence. His thick locks of silver hair fell over his face.

At first, nothing happened. A type of calmness settled in. Even when the fake screams and piano played in the background, time itself came to a crawl. Cloud did not know what to make of it. Neither of them moved nor spoke. Something seemed amiss as the silence prevailed longer than he was comfortable with. Cloud considered speaking but no words left his mouth when he noticed a peculiar thing happen at last. His lips parted in surprise.

Those odd tentacles of light returned, brighter than ever. The unique green aura that always surrounded Sephiroth intensified. This time, the tentacles spread out of his back like massive bird wings. There were seven of them. Cloud's heart pounded in his chest. He scooted backwards on the bed, as far as he could until he hit the metal back frame. Blinking several times, the light burned his eyes. Considering how no one in the Children's Playroom reacted to this incredible phenomenon, Cloud concluded the mako-induced drug in his system enabled him to see it.

The effects of mako… the essence of the Planet… it was all extraordinary. And terrifying.

Cloud managed to keep his eyes opened. By now, the light engulfed the Host's entire body until he became a silhouette. Cloud blinked tears out of his eyes. His expression changed to one of confusion when the outline of Sephiroth changed. The Host's size became significantly smaller. Thinner. His long silvery hair shortened while the well-defined structure of his body reduced to a softer lithe shape. The white light started to dissipate. With that, the outstretched tentacles retracted and disappeared.

His heart still pounding fast, Cloud immediately wanted to check on Sephiroth's condition; to determine what the fuck just happened. His eyes widened, however, when the light finally faded and his eyes fell upon a hunched child no more than ten-years-old. The youth lifted his face to meet Cloud's.

Jade-colored eyes. Shorty wavy hair. Ivory skin. It was the same boy Cloud had encountered several times before. It was the same boy he was supposed to meet tonight. And it was the same boy who apparently shared the name of his Host.

Sephiroth.

The ability to speak and think became a labored affair for Cloud. He briefly shut his eyes, not trusting them. Surely, this had to be the mako-laced weed screwing with his mind again. _Right?_ Maybe there was some LSD mixed into the batch and Sephiroth didn't tell him. It'd explain the far-fetched illusions. As he opened his eyes, Cloud expected to see a fully grown man and not a child. That didn't happen.

Cloud spat out the first thing that came to his head: "What. The._ Hell?_"

There were a million of other questions to ask, but that seemed the best he could come up with given his mentally incapacitated state. Seeing Sephiroth change from man to child… it wasn't possible. It wasn't real. It just _could not_ happen.

A smile crept at the corner of the child's ruby lips. His pale skin softly glowed under the purple lighting of the attic. "Do you finally _see_, boy?" he spoke at last.

"_Boy?_" Cloud couldn't help but repeat that word as soon as he got his lips working again. Despite losing his mind and sanity, he hadn't lost his snarky attitude. "You're calling _me _a_ boy?_ I'm not the one who just changed into a kid!"

Cloud didn't realize how loud he yelled until footsteps of a passerby approached. Damn it. He'd forgotten about the other attendees in the Children's Playroom with him. _Children's Playroom… _what an appropriate place to be right now. His heart skipping a beat, Cloud snatched Sephiroth and pulled his tiny naked form under the bed sheets with him.

"Something a matter?" Sephiroth murmured as they stared at each other while under the covers, their bodies close together. He offered an innocent smile that was anything _but_ innocent.

"What's the matter? Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Besides the fact you _changed_. You changed from a man to a child right before my eyes. And now I'm about to get caught in bed with a naked kid and labeled a pedophile for the rest of my life, thank-you-very-much," Cloud blurted back without taking a second to breathe.

"But I'm not a child."

"Could've fooled me." When the footsteps got closer, Cloud covered Sephiroth's mouth with a hand. "Shut up. Stay still."

Cloud sucked on his lower lip as he waited for the curious wanderer to move on from their spot. The monster under the bed growled while the demon-possessed girl nearby giggled and automatically trembled next to them. There was the familiar sound of a camera clicking. The camera's flash lit brightly.

Sephiroth thankfully remained quiet. However, when Cloud removed his hand he noticed a crooked smile on his face. It was then he noticed a knee between his legs. It pressed against his budge. Cloud held back a curse word and glared at the child.

"_Stop that_…" he whispered as low as he could.

There was no denying how beautiful Sephiroth looked – whether as a man or a child. A celestial aura encircled him wherever he went and whatever he looked like. But despite being enamored by Sephiroth, even admiring his angelic beauty right now, seeing him naked like this made Cloud… uneasy. Recalling how much Sephiroth enjoyed seeing him _unglued_, he frowned when the boy ignored his command and pushed his knee up against his budge again.

By the grace of Shiva, it didn't take long for the person outside their bed to leave. Alone again, Cloud didn't waste any time putting distance between him and this very young, very illegal-of-age Host.

Cloud pushed away the sheets and sat up, ready to get off the bed now. However, Sephiroth's hand reached out and clasped onto his wrist. The child swiftly shoved him back down onto the mattress and climbed on top of him. Sephiroth pinned him with both hands. His swiftness and strength proved incredible despite his smaller form. Stunned by it, Cloud lied still and stared up. He couldn't express into words what distressed him the most or why it did. It might've been a combination of things.

In the end, he didn't know or _want_ to know.

"How is this even possible?" Cloud demanded, deeply invested in the questions that wildly circulated in his mind. "How can you do… _that? What_ are you?"

The child cocked his head to one side. The slit pupils of his bizarre snake-like eyes reduced in size. "I told you that I'd share _a_ secret with you. Not all of them." Sephiroth released his iron grip on him. Sitting up as he did in his adult form, his hands now rested on Cloud's stomach. "You seem distressed."

"No shit…" Cloud mumbled back. He noticed Sephiroth's hairless length. It currently plopped out and bobbed with any slight movement. Cloud quickly looked away from it and absently stared at the ghoulish prop next to them instead. "You should cover yourself. People might get the wrong idea…"

"It's adorable seeing you so flustered though."

Cloud refused to acknowledge his comment. Still looking away, he wanted to leave before anyone caught him in bed with Sephiroth, especially in his current state. The Host remained on top of him though. His unusual strength trapped him in place.

"You had no problem seeing me naked before," Sephiroth pointed out.

"That's because you were a man. Now, you're… _this_. It just feels wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Yes. Wrong. _All_ of this feels wrong." As if to prove his point, Cloud reached out and snatched the bed sheet. He placed it over Sephiroth's entire body, covering everything, including his head.

"So the sight of me this way bothers you that much?" Under the covers now, Sephiroth's eyes glowed even stranger. "Even when you already know I'm not a child?"

"Yeah, it does bother me. You're not supposed to look or _act_ this way."

"Why?" the Host challenged.

"Because… Because kids are innocent, kind, and pure."

A scoff came out of Sephiroth. "Proper social conditioning does that. Kids are rotten and selfish."

The statement made Cloud narrow his eyes. He said nothing though.

"They lack understanding of their actions and must be told what to do and _why_," elaborated Sephiroth, "This actually makes them ideal guerilla fighters. Child soldiers will put a bullet to your head for a candy bar if the order came from an adult. Why do you think Shinra's recruitment policies and age restrictions are so… _flexible_?"

Cloud didn't justify the question with an answer. He was already aware of the scandal regarding youths signing up early. He, himself, would've been fourteen had Shinra accepted him on his first try. Fourteen… Too young to legally drive or drink or fuck, but old enough to pick up a rifle and go to war.

"The Tsviets were already battle-hardened soldiers before the first signs of puberty hit them," Sephiroth provided later, further proving his point. His small delicate fingers idly played with the waist hemline of Cloud's jeans. "Were you _innocent, kind, and pure_ as a child, Cloud?"

Mentally picturing the violent scuffles he'd been a part of as a kid, Cloud kept his lips pursed.

"Children are complex. They are not the asexual innocent creatures we think they are. By two-years-old, they already begin to gender identify. Did you know that?"

Cloud diverted his eyes away from the youth sitting on top of him. He shook his head.

"Sonograms have captured male erections while in the womb more times than the public would like to admit." The silver-haired child beamed. He tugged at the button of Cloud's jeans. "Can you imagine having _that_ as the first image of your _bundle of joy?_ I would gladly frame such a picture."

At this, Cloud's brows furrowed. "Where the hell do you read this stuff?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." The Host's thumb lightly swiped across the warm skin under Cloud's waistband. "I enjoy collecting information about the world around me. It's a hobby of mine."

The outrageous, absurd information that often spilled out of this Host's lips continued to baffle and shock Cloud. It did confirm one thing to him though. Looking back at his Host, he alleged, "You're actually an over glorified _nerd_, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am. I enjoy sharing and knowing things. Lots of things." Sephiroth's slender fingers traced the zipper of Cloud's pants. From there, they followed the shape of the sensitive budge there.

Cloud's breath hitched. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"_That._" Cloud grabbed Sephiroth's wrist and pulled his hand away. "You're making me feel… funny."

Sephiroth laughed. His child-like laugh sounded pleasant in the air. "Before, you wanted me to touch you. Now you don't."

"Shut up." Cloud's face flushed with heat. He gritted his teeth.

"I suspect it isn't seeing me like this that bothers you…" Sephiroth declared, his voice nearly lost to the piano music and fake screams. "…it's me destroying your perception of the world by my appearance and actions."

With a smile on his face, Sephiroth finally got off Cloud.

Removing the bed sheet, the Host tossed it to the ground. His pale naked form moved and sat on the lap of the demon-possessed girl. She automatically convulsed and giggled while his hands touched the wet tangled mess of her intestines. Sephiroth's fingers reddened with fake blood. The odd boy raised a bloody hand to his face. He messily smeared red over his lips, as if he were applying lipstick.

Cloud sat halfway up the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Playing a part." Sephiroth hummed pleasantly to himself. He glanced back at Cloud. "We can't stay hidden under the covers forever, especially when my current _condition_ will raise alarm the moment someone _does_ notice us. And unless you have spare clothes in my size, we can't walk out of here either."

A thin line formed across Cloud's lips. "Then change back. Get dressed so we can ditch this place."

"I cannot. My body requires time to naturally recover enough mana to revert back to its true form. Unless, of course, you have an Ether on you?" Sephiroth chuckled when he noticed the puzzled look on Cloud's face. "No. I didn't think you did."

_Mana? Ether?_ Cloud recalled those being related to magic-based properties. In order to evoke the powers of the Planet by way of materia, there needed to be a sufficient amount of _mana_ available. Cloud was ready to conclude Sephiroth had used a Morph Materia to change. However, a quick glance at the Host's arms, and he saw no yellow orb infused with him. So how _did_ he transform?

"I suggest we blend in for the time being," Sephiroth cut in, breaking Cloud's chain of thoughts.

"Blend in? How?" He snorted. "You, a naked silver-haired boy, blend in with no issues? _Riiiight_."

"You lack imagination, Cloud. There _are_ alternatives."

"Alternatives?"

"We can contribute to this House of Horrors attraction by creating our own display."

At this point, Cloud sat up straighter on the bed. He had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

Sephiroth smeared more fake blood on himself, this time throughout his body. On his arms. On his legs. On his chest. The intense red of the blood stood out against his smooth ivory-perfect skin. When he appeared satisfied, the Host stopped. Sephiroth readjusted his resting position and lied flat down on top of the demon-possessed prop. She giggled again, as if embracing him into her arms.

Looking up at Cloud, Sephiroth announced, "You shall play the role of a killer. I will be your victim."

Cocking a brow, Cloud didn't budge from his spot. "_Excuse_ me?"

"I want you to climb on top of me and put your hands around my neck," Sephiroth commanded, "as if you are choking me to death. The people will love it. It'll be a marvelous display."

The mattress squeaked as Cloud shifted away from Sephiroth. He instantly rejected this idea. "No way. Not interested. They'll feel instantly report it. We'll be kicked out when they also discover we don't belong here. Worse, I'll be…"

"You question my judgement?" Sephiroth cut him off.

"Damn right I do. The people here will eat us alive for showing something that twisted."

"The people will enjoy it ten times more because it is in human nature for them to."

Before Cloud could argue this any further, a couple approached their bed. He saw their faint silhouettes through the curtain. Already, his stomach tightened at the thought of them seeing Sephiroth. His childlike body remained completely exposed. The bed sheet was no longer in sight. Cloud eventually found it on the floor, recalling Sephiroth tossing it there earlier. He cursed when there was no time to retrieve it. Reactively, he covered the child's body with his own, lying on top of him.

Some of the mechanical doll's scattered intestines squished under their combined weight. The demon-possessed girl laughed, as if mocking him. Cloud chewed on his lower lip when she vibrated underneath them. Meanwhile, the monster under their bed automatically growled. The bed's curtains were set aside by the newcomers. Not wanting to appear out of place, Cloud followed Sephiroth's suggestion and loosely wrapped his hands around his thin neck. He acted the part of a killer, reluctantly becoming a part of the House of Horrors' freak show.

"_Oh my_…" visitor one exclaimed, observing the bloodied child and the man above choking him.

"_That's insane_," replied visitor two with a laugh. "_It's so sick and twisted and nasty…_"

"_These haunted houses always keep pushing the envelope, I swear…_"

"_Someone's ass is gonna get canned for this… Look, that's an actual kid. We should report this._"

"_Yeah…_" A long pause. "_Someone probably already did though…_"

"_You think so…?_" Another long pause. "_Maybe… we should take a picture before they shut it down?_"

"_Yeah…_ _Let's take as many photos while we got the chance…_"

"_This'll make an interesting wall post, hah._"

The couple stayed for several minutes, taking multiple shots of the display. At some point, one got close to Cloud and snapped a shot of his face. This same person pulled back and took more pictures of the bloodied silver-haired boy. Cloud's shoulders grew tensed when he realized neither of them intended to make a report. They seemed too fixated in documenting the whole damn thing and posting it online.

Still in character, Cloud had trouble looking at the boy he mounted. He didn't apply any pressure on his neck. Even so, Sephiroth writhed underneath him in a dramatic show of protest. Cloud's hard-on jerked each time it was pressed and rubbed. He was thankful his audience of two didn't notice. His back to them, he shielded as much of Sephiroth's nude form as he could.

Moans escaped Sephiroth's throat as he pretended to be in agony. Those soft sounds evoked an unwanted reaction in Cloud, enough for his eyes to waver away from his Host again. He tried to ignore the delicious shiver that swept down his body. Almost immediately, Cloud wanted to remove his hands and cleanse his body and mind of impure thoughts. He inwardly prayed for the visitors to leave. Instead, more came, also intrigued by their performance.

Sephiroth shifted his body up and down again, acting as if he were aggressively resisting his assaulter now. This made Cloud glower even more. The legs kept rubbing against his prick. He soon found Sephiroth's half-lidded eyes staring up at him. There was a glint in them.

"_Stay still_…" Cloud mumbled, trying to stay in character in front of their audience.

"_Choke me and maybe I will_," the Host challenged quietly.

That response nearly caused Cloud to flinch back. He didn't think the Host was serious. However, the even tone in Sephiroth's voice suggested otherwise.

Under their bed, the monster growled again. Several more attendees gathered around their bed, more than the ones who came in the previous hour. They took in the morbid scene, from the beast that lurked below the bed, to the demon-possessed girl that cackled underneath a bloodied naked child, to the young man who'd wrapped his hands around a thin frail neck. It was an orgy of chaos. Reactions ranged from shock to curiosity to… something else that made Cloud's own stomach twist in a knot.

As Sephiroth predicted, their obscene display became a hit. In a way, it reminded Cloud of the times people paused at a car wreck or when coming across the splattered remains of a dead animal on the road. They were appalled and disgusted… but not enough to look away or, heaven forbid, not to share the gruesome discovery online. The dark elements in life always had a habit of simultaneously enraging and enticing the human mind.

As time went on, Sephiroth's groans became more consistent. They grew in volume. Cloud knew it was intentional. Nothing happened by random or accident when it came to this Host. His sturdy length hardened and expanded partly from those throaty noises he produced. Wanting to silence the sounds, Cloud's hands trembled around Sephiroth's pale neck.

"_Shut up_…" Cloud urged one last time, glaring down at the small _helpless_ boy he straddled. He tried to ignore the intensifying heat that circulated between his legs.

"_Choke me_," Sephiroth demanded again. Covered in fake blood, he rolled his head back and exposed more of his vulnerable neck to him. His starry green eyes stayed on him. "_Do it. I want you to._"

More cameras flashed in the background. The demon-possessed doll that sheltered Sephiroth laughed and vibrated. Cloud struggled to stay in character. He was supposed to be the cold, indifferent killer. He was supposed to be the aggressor in charge. Not his victim.

Sephiroth created another vulgar sound from his red-smeared lips. It was louder this time; more pronounced and drawn out. It was the type of sound that went on behind closed doors. Cloud's heavy cock throbbed.

"_S-stop it, Sephiroth_…"

"_Destroy me_," the silver-haired boy said with an innocent smile. "_Show me your despair. I can take it._"

Cloud held his breath for several seconds. This was sacrilege. This was insane. This was a violation of everything he considered _pure_. Sephiroth spat on it all; he'd turned his world upside-down with beautiful words and beautiful smiles. He openly defied the laws of the universe itself.

_What the fuck was he?_

Cloud felt dizzy. He blinked when those damn green tentacles of lights on Sephiroth grew bright again. For a moment, he thought he heard a voice ring into his ears but could not make out its words. Sephiroth's lithe form stirred underneath him again. With the green lights, he looked more lovely and fragile. He continued making all sorts of movements and noises Cloud both despised and desired.

Growling, Cloud's hands finally gripped the slender neck.

"_Yes…_" Sephiroth whispered and closed his large beautiful eyes. "_Yes, boy…_"

Cloud wanted to silence those alluring moans and words. He wanted to shut Sephiroth the hell up. He couldn't bear hearing anything else come out of the mouth of this angelic-looking boy. It was all fucked up. Cloud's body shuddered though when Sephiroth's pulse beat strongly against the palms of his hands. Something about it stirred an emotional reaction in Cloud, something he had encountered before but couldn't remember where.

"_Tighter…_" Sephiroth requested. He opened his eyes and made eye contact. "_Show me your despair…_"

Cloud saw the heated look in Sephiroth's green eyes. The knuckles of his hands turned white as he grasped the neck tighter and tighter. Inside his jeans, the tip of his heated erection felt sticky with pre-cum juices. Cloud didn't know what he felt right now or where it came from. And yet, the sensation he experienced now was similar to all the times he'd beaten something to a bloody pulp.

_Power. Control. Despair._

Exhaling loudly, Cloud quickly removed his hands from Sephiroth's neck as if the skin burned him. He scooted backwards on the bed. Both ears throbbed from the rapid beating of his heart while a single teardrop fell from his right eye. Cloud didn't realize it was there until it slid down his cheek. With a shaky hand, he wiped it away.

Something inside him broke. He didn't know what it was, only that it was hard to breathe. His entire body quivered uncontrollably. Then, before he realized it, a single earth-shattering sound erupted. A scream. It came from him. With clenched fists, Cloud shut his eyes as he yelled. Like a wounded animal, his wail soared above the noise of the attic. It echoed down the hallways and rooms of the House of Horrors. More tears streamed down his face.

_The gods be damned, what was happening to him?_

On the bed, Cloud finally slumped and fell silent. A mumbled collection of emotions filled him. Anger. Fear. Bliss. Elation. He felt too raw to move or think. It took Cloud a long moment to notice or hear a standing ovation. Wearily, he looked up.

He saw a larger number of people around the bed. They had gathered to witness this peculiar spectacle. Clapping loudly with content smiles on their faces, many commended his performance and _the boldness_ of it. _It was art_, one declared, _it was pure art_. Their noise exploded from all directions while cameras flashed almost simultaneously. Nearby, the demon-possessed doll giggled. She seemed just as amused by the irony he found in this too. Cloud didn't know whether to curse or laugh along.

Getting close to midnight, the crowd started to disperse. Attendees turned away one by one. Their fingers flickered across their fancy PHS screens to share the moment they'd just experienced. Cloud was glad they left before his patience waned. It was time for them to mosey along. No doubt, the people would continue searching for the next big rush to excite their senses after this night was done.

Madness was a drug, Cloud thought to himself. It constantly needed a _bigger_ fix.

As the last spectator moved on, Cloud took a deep breath before daring himself to look back at his Host. When he did, he was surprised to find Sephiroth in his original form again. The tall man still rested on the mechanical doll; his long milky-white legs slightly spread apart. Strands of silvery hair fell over his smooth chest. The Host hadn't said a word since Cloud's outburst. He'd played dead for the audience and now returned to the land of the living with a face full of warm color. Green eyes shimmered and stayed fixed on Cloud.

"Beautiful…" Sephiroth remarked in a deep hushed voice, as if lost in a dream. A tender smile shaped his red smeared lips. "You lament so _beautifully_, Cloud…"

Fake thunder clapped from the attic. It briefly illuminated the room with white light; silhouettes danced across the veiled curtains. Sephiroth moved away from his spot. He settled on top of Cloud's lap and straddled him with one leg on each side. They sat face to face. Neither man spoke.

Cloud didn't move when the Host reached a hand to his face to wipe away the wet stains still there. His touches were slow and gentle. They reminded Cloud of the times his mother cared for him whenever he got sick. Sephiroth lingered on his face a bit longer before he grabbed one of Cloud's trembling hands. He took it to his lips and planted a small closed-lipped kiss on each finger. The shaking finally stopped. When it did, Sephiroth rubbed his warm cheek against the palm.

"What _are_ you…?" The question slipped out of Cloud's mouth before he realized. His voice was no more than a fragile sound.

"I am the shadows," Sephiroth quietly replied, his eyes set on him. "I am the stars. I am the unseen. I am… whatever you want or need me to be."

As soon as Sephiroth let go of his hand, Cloud felt _undone_, both mentally and physically. He understood at last the Host's desire for pain and _connection_ … that agonizing need to consume and be consumed. It was to _feel_ again. It was to eradicate the numbness that threatened to take over the body and spirit by means of intense sensations and emotions. Cloud encountered the numbness each time he woke up in the morning and followed regular routines, topping it off with his usual question: _would you like fries with that?_ Tonight, though, he felt different… It was as if he'd awaken from a long slumber.

Cloud's fingers moved with a mind of their own. He breathed hard as he frantically undid the button and zipper of his jeans, no longer wanting to be constrained or held back. The stiff muscle flopped out. Both hands settled on it. Looking up at Sephiroth, Cloud glared at the subject of his desire and frustration. He wanted to vent out with this lovely image in front of him.

He needed to _feel_ again.

Still straddled on his lap, Sephiroth observed Cloud furiously stroke himself. Soft spoken words soon emerged from his bloodied mouth. "_Chocobo, Chocobo. Come here, lovely Chocobo. Sit with me by my warm bright fire. I'll wrap my arms around you and kiss you higher_…"

He leaned forward and kissed Cloud's forehead. A moment later, Sephiroth pulled away and slid a hand between his own legs. He followed a lazier rhythm than Cloud's. Silver-painted fingers pulled at the tip with a rough tug. The vein that ran along his length stretched out each time he did this.

Cloud panted. He sat only inches away but could feel Sephiroth's warmth. It was intoxicating. Even so, he kept enough distance to avoid touching the sacred forbidden temple. His fist slipped over himself again and again. A delicious tingle made its way between his inner thighs. It shot straight to his rigid core and sent the tiny nerves under his skin tingling. Cloud's entire body throbbed with an electrifying heat.

"_Chocobo, Chocobo. Oh how I love you, sweet Chocobo…" _Sephiroth quoted again in a breathy voice. "_Never leave me, never say goodbye. Else I'll take you and make Chocobo cottage pie…_"

With only the low sounds of their constant tugging, both males watched each other satisfy their personal wants. The Host's self-administrations inspired and stirred Cloud. Despite his pale skin being covered in blood, the sight of Sephiroth losing himself made Cloud hungry with need. He clutched onto his shaft tighter and quickened his pace, imaging himself plunging deep into a puckered entry. Their raw cocks nearly touched.

Cloud regretted going so long without this wonderful sensation. Since he left Nibelheim, he tried to contain himself, doing his best to be a _good boy_ to atone for his past actions. He experimented very little when compared to the city boys. Even with Kyle and their explorations, Cloud still held back. Tonight was different though. The floodgates had been opened. Jacking off with another man, face to face, Cloud wanted to indulge in all sorts of pleasures and fantasies. He wanted to be free.

Sephiroth's breathing visibly increased when his tip fiercely blushed and moistened. His eyes stayed on Cloud when he opened his mouth and requested, "Tell me what you secretly covet in the depths of your heart, sweet Chocobo… Give me the pleasure of taking it away."

"My emptiness…" Cloud admitted slowly, both to himself and to his Host. He aimed his member directly at Sephiroth, perversely wanting his vile essence to spill all over this angelic-like creature. "I want you to take that away… I want to be whole. I want to _feel_…"

Sephiroth kept pumping himself in a steady rhythm while he rose on his knees. A free hand settled on the younger man's shoulder. Looking down at him, Sephiroth's long silver hair fell over his shoulders. The next words sounded quieter in Cloud's ears. "You finally understand the significance of my words earlier then. About emptiness. About pain. About gaining a connection that allows us to feel again…"

"Yes…" Cloud rubbed himself faster. Sephiroth's new position brought his bulky penis a few inches close to his face. He could smell its damped musk. Cloud licked his lips. He'd only need to bend forward and open his mouth to taste him.

"Then experience this as I have," Sephiroth offered. The hand he had placed on Cloud's shoulder reached his neck. Fingers wrapped around it. "Let me enlighten you by _feeling_ this…"

He squeezed.

Briefly, Cloud frowned. Sephiroth's strong grip abruptly cut off the air in his throat. He blinked several times. Natural instinct wanted to push the Host off. Too heated to stop stroking himself, Cloud's other hand weakly reached out to make Sephiroth stop. His plan of action waned when he felt dizzy. His eyes rolled back. Tiny grunts escaped his throat. This newfound odd experience made him feel… wonderfully light. Cloud's hand ended up clutching onto a bundle of silver hair instead.

"Deprived of oxygen, our brain induces us into a semi-hallucinogenic state due to an abundance of carbon dioxide," Sephiroth informed in his usual matter-of-fact tone. He kept his grip on Cloud's neck constant while the hand motion over his own hard-on increased. "This sensation becomes more effective when combined with something _else_… say, the rush of an orgasm."

Faintly hearing his words, Cloud shuddered and shut his eyes. He didn't care about the science behind it, only that this new feeling felt _good_. The absence of air and sense of mortal danger somehow heightened his elevated state. It was the same adrenaline rush he felt prior to a hunt or after winning a fight. Cloud's firm skin felt hot in his right hand right now.

"Even at Death's doorway, we experience pain and pleasure," resumed Sephiroth. "They go together hand and hand. Like you and me. Shall I… enlighten you more?"

"_Yes_…" Cloud managed to whisper back. The nerves of his cock briefly flared from one particular hand stroke. He reactively yanked on Sephiroth's hair with his other hand, earning a low hiss from the Host.

Sephiroth abandoned his own member and used both hands to apply extra pressure. Cloud silently gaped. His eyes watered. The corners of his mouth drooled. Shaking more, his pink face sheened with sweat. The hand moving between his legs never stopped, however. He doubled his speed and pumped the clumsy muscle faster and faster. The balls swelled and turned a darker shade of color. Even when he could no longer breathe, he fell deeper into a state of euphoria.

The monster under the bed wailed while the dead girl cackled and vibrated. They sang along amidst the chaos and heated heavy atmosphere. Those eerie green lights appeared again, meanwhile. Surrounding Sephiroth, the massive bird-like wings stretched out toward Cloud. They wrapped around his body. Enclosing him. Sheltering him. Suffocating him.

"Finish it," Sephiroth ordered. His velvet voice somehow reached Cloud's throbbing ears.

When the white-hot release came, Cloud's body violently jerked. He reactively clutched onto Sephiroth's hair again. The knuckles of his clenched fist turned white. An acidic flavor reached his tongue while his wet eyes remained fixated on his angel, his savior. Cloud's hand still choked the angry-red cock even as he convulsed. Its slit produced several thick lines of white. Splashing on Sephiroth, most of the drip hit his chest. A few specks sprinkled across his lovely face.

The Host sucked in air as Cloud pulled on his hair. Sephiroth's perfect body was a mess. Previously a pure blank canvas, it was now desecrated by various colors, from fake red blood to oily sweat to warm ivory semen. The long silvery bangs were matted with sweat and clung to his face. Sephiroth licked up the drop of white near his bottom lip. That action instantly reminded Cloud of vanilla milkshakes.

He wondered if he tasted salty and sweet in Sephiroth's mouth.

Lightheaded and red at the face, Cloud fell forward. Sephiroth kept him upright. Their faces were close to each other. He still grasped Cloud's neck with one hand, letting the young man ride out the rest of his climax in a blissful state, while the other lifted the young man's chin. Sephiroth observed Cloud's every facial reaction.

By then, his unique green eyes took on a more primal look. The slit-like pupils became thinner and nearly lost themselves to the color of emerald.

Cloud felt his slow pulse throb against the hand around his neck. _Thump… thump… thump…_ Thinking of the wild beast he had faced from his childhood, Cloud focused on Sephiroth's feral eyes and saw a similarity there. White dots began to impede his vision though. A moment later, his hand weakly let go of the silver hair. A small grunt noise escaped Cloud's lips before his eyes rolled back and he succumbed to the inviting depths of darkness. Only the memory of Sephiroth's final words echoed to him.

"_Chocobo, Chocobo. You're mine now, pretty Chocobo…_"


	22. Rubbers

**Author's Note:** _This fanfic is metaphorically sponsored by Trojan: Pleasure you want. Protection you trust._

* * *

Chapter 21: Rubbers

_Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep…_

A high-pitched noise repeatedly sounded off close by. Lying on his stomach with one arm under him, Cloud stirred from his dormant state. Half of his face was smothered by a pillow; dried spit streaked down one cheek. A low groan came out of him. Clearing his scratchy throat, the neck itched and ached at certain spots. His watery eyes stung when he opened them. They burned with that annoying sensation that came from waking up too early. Cloud wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. He tried to make sense of his surroundings but darkness consumed everything. _Where was he?_

Fatigue and disorientation prevented Cloud from instantly recognizing the source of the beeping sounds. It was his phone alarm. One hand reached into his jacket's pocket, mildly amused he still wore it. Fingers roamed about until they found a button. Killing the alarm, Cloud rolled onto his back with a sigh. Metal coils squeaked. Its sound reminded him of the flimsy mattress back in his apartment. The uneven lumps across the surface under him felt painfully familiar. As he drew in breath, the heaviness and sour milk-like stench in the air confirmed his suspicions.

He was… home?

His hand blindly reached for a lamp that usually sat beside his makeshift bed. Once Cloud felt a chain in his grip, he pulled down on it. Light instantly filled the dark space, revealing a very familiar apartment located on the upper floor of El Palacio.

Cloud stared up at the pattern of web-like cracks on his ceiling while his body struggled against the drowsy effects of hibernation. The lack of a morning sun in the Slums always made it difficult to visually determine whether it was night or day. Ongoing muffled chatter from next door neighbors and blaring television sets, as well as the scraping sounds of skateboards outside, indicated it was early. Cloud wondered how long he had been out. Hours? A day? Both thumbs massaged the temples of his throbbing head while he tried to piece himself together again.

Recalling how he got home proved problematic. Cloud couldn't remember the trip back to his apartment building. He still wore the clothes he left with prior to his outing, except for the boots. The lethargic teenager eventually spotted them by the side of his mattress; their shoelaces neatly tied. Mentally replaying the events that happened at an earlier time, Cloud knew he had attended class. That occurred before his meeting with Jessie. Sometime after that, he got a call from his PHS.

On the mattress, Cloud's body stiffened in memory of that call. He stopped touching the temples of his head. Hands dropped to his sides as he lay still. Memories slipped into his mind, one after another.

Spirals of light. A purple-filtered playroom. Mechanical cackles from a life-sized doll. Shimmered green eyes. Ivory skin covered in red. Forbidden words that both excited and disturbed the senses. The nerves under Cloud's skin tingled and grew warm when more details arose from his now conscious state – _show me your despair_. Briefly rubbing his sore neck, the boy propped himself up by the elbows. He checked his phone and hoped to find a message waiting for him. Perhaps it'd explain how he got here.

There were several missed calls from his mother – damn, he forgot to call her – but nothing from the silver-haired Host that accompanied him during his crazy outing. Chewing on his fatty lower lip, Cloud noted the date and time today and discovered it was a Sunday. He'd been asleep for several hours. The time read twenty minutes passed eight in the morning. His alarm must've been ringing for a long time since he originally set it to go off at six. Recalling this, the rugged boy sat up. He stared at the date again. His mouth gaped. Immediately, Cloud bolted out of his bed.

"_Crap!_" came the first colorful word from his mouth.

He was over two hours late for his morning shift.

On his feet, Cloud stripped off his jacket and top. His head spun from sudden vertigo but he stayed standing and raced to the closet, nearly tripping in the process. "Damn it, damn it, _damn it_…"

Odd combinations of words spilled out of the youth's lips while he yanked his Chocobo Chow uniform off a hanger. Somewhere in the background, Cloud heard a tapping sound on his window. Ms. Tinker, he realized. She had come home from her own adventures. His stupid pet now pawed at the glass and whined from the emergency stairway, demanding to come in for her breakfast. Cloud sighed. He opened the window to let the dog in and tossed leftovers from his mini-fridge at her, anything to shut her up. Then he phoned his workplace while slipping on his trousers with a free hand.

After a few rings, someone picked up from the other line. Mr. Mukki's voice exploded in Cloud's ear. "_Bubby! Mukki was wondering where you were! Everything okay?_"

Recalling how lit and shit-faced he got last night, the teen didn't want to admit he accidentally slept in after a wild night of partying hard with a Host. Instead, he mumbled, "Sorry, Mr. Mukki, I didn't hear my alarm go off." Cloud fumbled to get his belt through the pants' loops and added, "I didn't realize how late it was until I woke up."

"_Oh my, bubby. Mukki thought something serious happened; Mukki was about to phone you. So glad everything is okay though. You had Mukki worried, bubby._"

"Sorry about that, sir. I'm heading to the train station right now. I should be there in an hour."

"_Ah, bubby, no worries. It's a slow day. Go ahead and take the day off._"

Cloud stopped midway in buttoning his disheveled shirt. "Uh… what?"

"_Mukki got the rookies on your station, bubby, so you're covered. Gotta break them in some day._"

Worried the rookies would burn the entire place down, Cloud still pressed, "You sure…?"

"_Yeah, bubby. You've never requested a day off before. And you've never been late – this is a first. Go ahead and enjoy the day off, bubby. You sound like you could use one._"

Upon hearing those last words, Cloud reactively cleared his scratchy throat.

"_Of course, if you want the hours you can still come in_," Mr. Mukki offered.

Cloud contemplated for a moment. While he wanted a good paycheck this week, getting to enjoy a day off sounded even better, especially when he felt totally out of it right now. He relaxed his shoulders. "Um, thanks, Mr. Mukki. I think I'll stay home. Gonna get some rest, y' know?"

"_No problem, bubby. Mukki hopes you feel better. See you tomorrow!_"

"Thanks." Flipping his PHS shut, Cloud puffed out air.

His eyes still itched from lack of good sleep. He also realized his undershirt was on backwards. Cursing to himself, Cloud wanted to go back to bed and spend his free day sleeping, smoking a bowl, yanking off, and watching missed episodes of his favorite shows. It'd be a carefree lazy day. Of course, it didn't take him long to remember he had a shit-ton of things to do. Call mom. Study for the exams. Complete Mr. Bugenhagen's assignment. Hit the gym. Call mom. Fine-tune his swordsmanship. Buy groceries. Take his daily run. _Call mom_. And figure out what to wear for his date.

His date… Damn. It was tonight. 8 o' clock. Cloud peered into his closet. Not much was in there to wear, save for his uniforms and a few ragged items. Most of his clothes had been tossed into the dirty bin.

Despite feeling groggy and not in the mood, Cloud opted to start the day by doing the laundry. Tidying up the place would've been added on his _to-do_ list as well but everything looked organized enough. All the books and training equipment typically scattered across his floor had been set aside. The dishes were washed and stacked. Even his clutter of canned food on a shelf appeared lined in orderly fashion, each spaced evenly apart. Their food labels all faced the same direction – _when had he done that?_

Ms. Tinker wagged her tail as she continued eating her breakfast. Once in a while she sniffed the air, as if alerted by something. Then she went back to chowing down on two-days-old Chocobo tenders. Undoing the buttons of his shirt, Cloud walked passed her. He entered his bathroom to properly wash his face and take a shower. Ditching his PHS and belt on a shelf, he stripped off his uniform and tossed it into the clothes bin to wash with the rest of today's laundry.

The morning piss he took required a good minute or two. It indicated how much he drank last night. He had also smoked some powerful shit that left his mouth dried and full of _cotton_. Cloud inwardly laughed at his own recklessness, strangely feeling a sense of accomplishment from it. He shook his pecker a few times to clear it of piss drops before flushing the toilet. Then he washed his hands at the nearby sink.

The bathroom mirror, covered with aged black spots, reflected his pale complexion and cracked lips. It confirmed what he already suspected: _he looked like shit_. Yesterday's outing had left him with bags under his crusted eyes and a white lining around the mouth. Cloud bent down and took many sips of cold water directly from the faucet. Then he splashed his face several times. Thankfully, his earlier disorientation waned enough for him to see clearer. Last night's mako-laced cannabis had long left his system too, keeping his vision absent of any bizarre green lights – thank the gods. He became more coherent despite a nagging headache.

Applying white paste on a toothbrush, Cloud spent several minutes tending to his teeth. He scrubbed off any nasty gunk left behind from last night. As he tilted his head side-to-side for a better angle, a peculiar detail on the mirror's reflection caught his attention. The hand brushing his teeth slowed down. Foamed at the mouth with toothpaste, Cloud paused when he discovered marks around his neck. There were several of them. His expression contorted to a look of confusion. After rinsing his mouth with water and spitting out toothpaste, Cloud got closer to the mirror.

He'd initially dismissed the marks as black spots from the mirror. However, his teeth tapped together once he realized what they were: _bruises_. They were bruises.

Slowly tracing one of them with a thumb, Cloud softly hissed. The purplish patches of skin still felt tender to the touch. He followed the shape of a hand print that was bigger than his. It didn't take him long to remember how he got these bruises. Even now, he could feel a pair of smooth and slim hands wrapped around his neck as well as the rapid pulse of his own heartbeat. He could still hear _his_ voice too: _Shall I… enlighten you more?_

_Sephiroth…_ Tall, dark, and beautiful Sephiroth. He was a man made into a boy; a boy made into a man.

Cloud breathed out. He gripped the edges of the sink. His mind pieced together the Host's other actions and words but drew a blank once he reached the point where he had passed out. Sephiroth's soft humming was the last sound he'd heard. His tender notes lulled him to sleep; warm hands still on him.

Snatching the PHS off the shelf, Cloud checked his electronic device again for further clues as to what else happened last night. He had taken plenty of photos during the carnival outing with his Host. To his surprise and disappointment, however, the photos were gone. It was the same for the text messages. Cloud stared at his phone's blank screen a moment longer.

A password prevented anyone else from screwing with his PHS. No one but him knew that password. Yet, every photo he had taken at the carnival was erased. It couldn't have been him. No matter how shitfaced he got last night, there was no way he would've wanted to delete them. Someone else did this. With a long drawn-out sigh, Cloud snapped his phone shut. He recalled his talk with Zack yesterday, back when he nearly pissed himself while trapped inside a coffin.

The raven-haired youth had mentioned the importance of LOVELESS' exclusion. The Hosts took great measures in ensuring the club's secrecy from outsiders. Cloud concluded all evidence related to last night was deleted for this purpose. This explanation didn't make him feel any better though. The fact one of the Hosts successfully hacked into his phone felt disturbing enough. Furthermore, what was the point of giving him back his phone last night? Why did they let him take pictures at all if someone was going to erase them anyway? At a loss for words and annoyed, Cloud tossed his PHS back on the shelf.

All that remained now were the memories; memories laced with intense emotions and sensations he'd never encountered before. Lips formed into a thinner shape as Cloud stared at his image on the mirror again. If not for the bruises, he would've thought last night was a dream. Perhaps it still was. Perhaps he was asleep, dreaming within a dream. Cloud peered closer at his reflection. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you real?" he asked the other Cloud. "Or am I? Which of us resides in the fantasy?"

A low throaty laugh bounced off the bathroom walls after a long moment of silence. Cloud scoffed at himself, feeling stupid and pathetic right now.

His abdominal scar itched, as it typically did on dried cool days like this. Even after all these years the wound was still remodeling itself. Mending itself. Scratching it, the scar grimly reminded the boy of his mortality and limits as well as the unmerciful nature of life. It consisted of big wolves that devoured the weak. He knew right then and there that _he_ was the real Cloud: only he carried all the burdens and despair of the real world. Accepting this truth, the Nibel native pulled away from the mirror.

Cloud got the water running in the bathtub's showerhead shortly. Steam rose and fogged his immediate surroundings. He stepped inside the rusted tub and pulled the shower curtain around him. The first jets of hot water hit him hard and fast. His freckled skin turned to a harsh pink color. Cloud didn't mind. He welcomed the brutal sensation. It made him _feel_ again.

The sound of his neighbors yelling was heard over the rush of running water. Cloud ignored them while he spread shampoo over his hair. It was getting long again. He debated on getting it cut before his date. With a bit of Gil, he could hire a decent hairstylist to give him one of those popular city-boy cuts. He could look _chic_ for once. The rural teen ultimately decided against it though. Appearing to Jessie with a strange new haircut came at the risk of looking stupid in it.

Thoughts of the car mechanic inevitably made Cloud anxious over tonight's affairs. His fingers scraped across his scalp more aggressively. He already confirmed their seats for tonight's show and hoped Jessie didn't mind sitting all the way at the back. He also hoped she liked Wutai fast food at the Lucky Wu Diner. It was all he could afford with his limited budget. These setbacks weren't the only concerns plaguing his mind right now, however. Something else bothered him.

Overhearing the couple next door yell again, Cloud wondered if tonight's match-up was a good idea. He had initially offered to go out with Jessie because she fixed him up on the night of his fight. She was also a sweet girl with similar tastes, great personality, and a nice body. They got along fine – _brilliantly_, in fact – and nearly went all the way yesterday. Everything seemed headed in the right direction.

So what was wrong?

Cloud absently stared at the drainage between his feet. His head bowed, the shower's water rinsed the shampoo off his hair and collected at that suction point. The soapy water spun and spun. As Cloud watched the small whirlpool, he grew frustrated with himself. There was nothing wrong with Jessie. She had a kind and beautiful spirit. Her warm aura reminded him of Tifa's. She wasn't the problem. _He_ was.

As always, it was in his nature to overthink things, fail to be happy, and be a royal pain in the ass to everyone, including those he cared about. Cloud felt like a malfunctioned toy in need of a repair job.

After washing his hair, the lowly teen ran a bar of ivory soap over his arms and legs. Cloud scrubbed off the filth he'd accumulated since last night. Sensitive parts received extra attention. This bath obviously lacked all the extravagance and finesse of the one he shared with his silver-haired Host yesterday. There were no mirrors or freakish mannequins or sterile whiteness here. Nothing grand. Just cracked walls, leaky pipes, and a water-stained ceiling. Admittedly, Cloud missed the scent of vanilla and rose in the air.

A small scoff escaped from the boy's mouth. It was so unlike him to get involved with a Host. He initially laughed at the concept of paid lovers when Ele' first mentioned it to him awhile back. Now he was bound to one by contract. Their arrangement seemed simple enough: fulfill whatever desire Sephiroth demanded of him. In exchange, the Host would give him his company.

Rubbing his neck with soap, Cloud envisioned his silver-haired companion. He pictured Sephiroth's exotic features and peculiar mannerisms. The Host's hands wrapped around him again. Choking him. Bringing him close to death. Bringing him close to absolution.

Their intimate encounter last night still resonated in the teenager, bringing with it a mixture of anxiety, dread, and excitement. Sephiroth nearly choked the life out of him. Yet, the action gave Cloud an adrenaline-rush that subsequently killed the numbness swelling within him for all these years. The crude act reminded the Nibel native of his own existence. It forced him to _breathe_ again.

Pathetic how drastic measures like that needed to be taken to feel anything these days, Cloud thought while he set the bar of soap on its designated tray. His slippery hands scrubbed at the neck one more time. Admittedly, he hated himself for feeling this way. Life would've been so much better if he could go a morning without feeling empty and insignificant inside; a day he didn't drown in despair.

Here in Midgar, the human spirit died a gruesome death, either from shitty economic situations, indifference, or broken dreams. The human heart was fragile and susceptible to influence. Thus, Cloud knew he was not alone in his misery. Misery fucking loved company, especially in this age of technological mako-enhanced_ enlightenment_. Chumps like him could only find solace in far-fetched dreams, chemicals, junk food, blow jobs, online texts, and late-night TV-show binges. No wonder the older farts felt his generation was a lost cause, bound to die off fast and young and in a blaze of glory.

While Cloud did not want to concede to his own dark thoughts, he had only felt alive and awake in Sephiroth's presence. His terrible angel brought him salvation in the form of pain and pleasure. Closing his eyes now, Cloud touched his neck again. He convinced himself it was only to massage the bruises there. Nevertheless, fingers wrapped around his neck one-by-one.

The bruises still felt sensitive but Cloud applied pressure on himself anyway. He clasped at the neck in the same manner Sephiroth had done last night. The Host's words echoed in his mind. _Choke me. Destroy me. Tighter. Show me your despair. I can take it._ Cloud's other hand lingered below. It traveled down the landscape of smooth-shaped abdominal muscles until it reached the bulky mass between his legs. He stirred it to life.

Already, the pulse beat more. Cloud could feel the heat emanate and intensify throughout his body. He wanted to achieve that _high_ again; he wanted to recapture that curious and terrifying moment between Sephiroth and him. Pain with pleasure. Cloud's own efforts weren't enough though. His administrations felt sloppy and poorly timed. Not only did he have trouble simultaneously focusing on two actions, but he reactively loosened his grip whenever he needed air or got too greedy with his hand strokes. Cloud reluctantly let go of his neck, feeling disappointed by his shortcomings and results.

Outside of his shower, the PHS went off. Cloud emitted a low sigh. He wanted to spend a few minutes beating off to the mental image of Sephiroth's body but forced himself to turn off the shower to check the caller. His still-throbbing erection wobbled as he slid the curtain aside and got out of the tub.

The PHS still ringing, Cloud wondered if it was Sephiroth. Was he ready to talk about last night? Schedule a meeting? Putting a towel around his slim waist, Cloud padded to his PHS as fast as he could but bit his lower lip once he learned it wasn't his Host. He answered the caller anyway.

"Hey Kyle…"

"_I heard you were off today,_" the street rat's voice came through loud and clear_. _Cloud could hear Kyle's Wutai-Pop music playing in the background. _"Tsk, tsk… Shame on you for not telling me._"

Cloud frowned. He leaned against the sink and blankly stared at the stiff budge that poked from under his towel, still feeling sensitive. "Mr. Mukki just gave me the day off like twenty minutes ago. Word gets out fast. Are you spying on me again, asshole?"

"_Maybe._"

"You mean 'yes'."

_"I have well-placed sources that give me twenty-four-seven Intel,_" Kyle explained himself.

"Lemme guess: Wedge got jealous that Mr. Mukki gave me the day off and immediately texted you to whine about it." Cloud scratched his chin. The small uneven stubbles of fair blond hair there irritated him. He searched for an electric razor in the mirror's cabinet.

"_Yep. Pretty much. I think the rolly-polly figured you were with me already and wanted to passive-aggressively put you on the guilt-trip._"

"Prick." Cloud found his electric razor. With a flick of a switch, it buzzed to life and he began to shave. Over the noise, he spat, "He's probably throwing a hissy fit at the fryer station right now, talking shit behind my back with Biggs."

"_Naturally._" Kyle chuckled on the other line. "_Hey, what's that buzzing sound? You using a vibrator? While on the phone with me? Oooh, kinky. I like it!_"

"I'm shaving, idiot."

"_Way to ruin my fantasy. You want me to come over? I can help you shave your balls."_

Cloud sighed. "Kyle. It's too early in the day for me to kick your ass, so do yourself a favor and shut up."

The laughter at the other end grew louder. Kyle nearly choked. He coughed several times. "_Fiiiine. You're no fun. How about I bring over my best stash instead? We can get lit and play with each other's boy parts. Does that sound better?_"

"Sounds fantastic," admitted Cloud, briefly glancing down at his hard-on. "However, I got a date tonight. I have nothing to wear for it so I need to do the laundry. I also gotta call mom. She's likely pissed we didn't talk yesterday or worried I'm lying dead in an alleyway somewhere. Some other time, okay?"

"_Ouch. Mommy issues._" The sound of Kyle loudly snorting – likely blue dust, Cloud guessed – was heard. His words came out slurred and hurried when he suggested, "_Hey, let's meet at Wall Market._"

"Huh?"

"_Today," Kyle clarified in a higher pitched voice. "Right now. This moment. Let's get together_."

"What for?" Cloud slowly brought the electric razor up from under his chin. "I already told you I'm gonna be busy."

"_Because if I know you, which- I-totally-do, you'll likely wear jeans and a t-shirt for your date._"

At this, Cloud stopped shaving and made a face. "What's wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?"

A grunt-like sound echoed back to him. "_Hopeless. You're hopeless sometimes, Cloud. What is this, a cheap-ass date? Are you taking her to Chocobo Chow for dinner too?_"

"No. The Lucky Wu Diner."

"_Mother of Shiva's Tits, that's terrible!_"

"What's wrong with the Lucky Wu Diner?" Cloud demanded to know, frowning.

"_Eeeeverything_," Kyle shot back. "_This girl deserves better than that. You need to step up your game, Cloud. You like this girl. Don't you?_"

Cloud hesitated before answering his question.

"_Well…?_" continued Kyle. "_Don't you?_"

Despite going out with a great girl, Cloud was filled with the usual questions and doubts that previously ruined his other potential interests. He honestly couldn't decide whether he felt anxious or excited about his get-together with Jessie. The more Cloud thought about it, however, the more worried he got over the possibility that Jessie would be disappointed in knowing the _real him_. Or worse, expect more out of their date. Like a relationship.

The closes thing to a _relationship_ Cloud ever had was with a lady twice his age from the Plate. He was fifteen at the time. The sex had been great, often serving as the focal point of their interactions. But the relationship itself lasted just a few months. They had little in common and Cloud eventually grew tired of being treated as some _trophy boy-toy_ from the Slums. Like so many well-off Midgar City residents, his Ex sought out a young impressionable lover for vanity and status purposes. She was also more in love with _the idea_ of being with a pretty boy from the Slums than actually being _in love_ with him.

Their breakup proved uneventful, perhaps even trivial. When he finally worked up the nerve to call the whole thing off, there were no tears from his Ex. No yelling. No spiteful words. Just a smile and a 'good luck' and a 'call me if you wanna fuck some time'. He never did call her back.

"I think I like her…" Cloud at last answered back, as honestly as possible. His jaw danced.

"_You _think_ so?_" Kyle paused. The music from his line got quieter, as if he'd just turned down the volume. "_Sheesh, Cloud, you can be pretty indecisive sometimes. You can't decide which way to go. Or with who._"

With a low growl, Cloud went back to shaving. He grazed the side of his face and muttered, "First of all, it's only a date. Second, _you're_ the one who told me to cut loose and test the waters. And third, shut up. You're just as _indecisive_ as I am. Maybe worse."

"Too true…" Kyle laughed at his level of accuracy. "I told you how much we're alike."

Cloud chuckled and smiled along.

In Midgar, they both learned that getting romantically involved with anyone was about as meaningful as choosing what shoes to wear for the week. Many, like his Ex, preferred a fresh new pair. Others, like Kyle, couldn't settle for one set. It was because of this Cloud put little stock in the silly romantic notions his mother raised him on – soul mates, one true love, and all that jazz. Those concepts meant nothing in the city; they led only to heartache or disappointment. Cloud needed to evolve and go beyond his mother's outdated traditions and beliefs. He had signed a contract with a Host partly because of that.

Unfortunately, now that he was going out with Jessie tonight, he had trouble shaking off his current mindset. He hoped to suppress his doubts, anxieties, and questions long enough to have a good time.

"_You stocked up, by the way?_" Kyle later inquired.

Cloud knew what he meant by that question. He sent the electric razor down the side of his neck to catch any hair there. "No. I was thinking about heading to the Pharmacy for that. But… maybe it's not a good idea. I still don't know how I feel about Jessie. Going all the way with her tonight might give her the wrong idea about us. I think I'll just play things in the straight and narrow tonight."

"_It's still a good idea to get stocked up. Meet me at Wall Market, okay?_"

"What the hell for?" repeated Cloud his previous question from earlier. He still didn't know why Kyle wanted to see him right now. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for an explanation.

"_I'm going to help you pick out a nice outfit at the Boutique. You're going to dress like a gentleman, not some trailer-trash white boy from the Slums._"

Offended by that description, Cloud quietly quipped, "I'm not getting anything expensive."

"_Spoken like a true cheapskate._"

Cloud rolled his eyes and removed the last patches of fine hairs on his face. He shut the device off.

"_We'll meet at the Pharmacy_," Kyle reminded him, "_Call me when you get there. I'll give you a fat bud and royally suck you off if you actually show up and don't act like a hillbilly hick in the Boutique._"

"I m'ake no pro'mises," Cloud said, using the most exaggerated Nibelheim accent he could use. He clicked off his phone as soon as the other boy hung up.

Wasting Gil on an outfit he'd use only once seemed like a stupid idea. Unfortunately, once the street rat set his mind on something it was impossible to change it. Cloud left the bathroom and went through his closet to salvage whatever he could find to wear. Spending time with Kyle this afternoon actually wasn't a bad plan. Free smokes and a blowjob certainly sounded better than visiting his apartment's creepy-ass, mole-infested basement to do his laundry. It'd also relieve the tension he felt toward tonight's date.

Ultimately, Cloud ended up finding a vintage blue-and-white baseball jersey shirt with long sleeves and tanned cargo pants that had sewn patches all over. His attire looked thuggish but he didn't care. Ready to go, he scratched the back of Ms. Tinker's floppy ears before locking up and leaving his apartment.

On the way out of his residence, Cloud noted two peculiar things. The first was the landlord. Riding in the elevator together, Mr. Butch looked cheerier than the usual. He smiled and wished him a nice day. There was no mention of Ms. Tinker or any noise complaints. This baffled Cloud. Up until this point, Mr. Butch never had anything good to say to him. He constantly complained about something. But today? The landlord was all smiles and even held the elevator door for him when they got off on the first floor.

What the hell? Did Mr. Butch get laid or something?

The second peculiar thing Cloud found was a white-enclosed envelope in his mailbox. At the apartment's foyer, he stood by many rows of mailboxes. His hands held an envelope with his name on it. While there was no sender address included, a silver-marked elaborately designed insignia appeared on the back. Cloud removed a pocket knife from his boot and carefully sliced along an edge of the envelope. He discovered two tickets inside. Smelling of vanilla and rose, both of them were printed on fine textured paper. They offered admittance to an evening show.

"_Loveless?_" Cloud murmured to himself, reading the show's title on the tickets. His lips formed a thin line. He already bought tickets for this play.

While slightly disappointed by his findings, Cloud entertained the idea of using the additional _Loveless_ passes for two friends. It would make tonight's date less awkward. On further inspection of the tickets, however, Cloud learned the location of this _Loveless_ play was different from the one listed on his own passes. Sector 2. That was the Commercial District. Weird. Cloud wondered if it was a typo since Sector 2 consisted mostly of factories and the loading docks; not theaters or public venues for entertainment.

Factories and the loading docks…

Cloud recalled traveling through a meat factory to reach the LOVELESS Host club. He'd been blindfolded on his way there but heard the horns of distant airships and beeping sounds of active cranes. It must've been Sector 2. Scanning the tickets again for more information, Cloud blinked when he found a small handwritten note on the back of one of them. The cursive-written words appeared small and well-spaced out from each other: _In case you want to see a different kind of show. – S _

_S_… Cloud's breath caught midway up his throat. Instantly, he looked around the foyer, hoping to find a very unique man with very unique eyes close by. His Host had been here or, at least, sent the tickets to his mailbox. This explained how he woke up in his apartment this morning. Sephiroth knew where he lived and dropped him off. Cloud couldn't recall giving his enigmatic Host his home address though. Perhaps he had included that bit of information when he logged onto the LOVELESS website yesterday? He couldn't remember.

Cloud's eyes roamed his surroundings again to search for Sephiroth. Aside from another tenant checking her mail, no one else was here. He paused from the investigation when his PHS beeped. An incoming text message indicated that Kyle had just arrived at Wall Market and was heading to the Pharmacy to meet him there. Tucking the tickets inside his cargo pants, Cloud decided to leave the matter alone for now. He left the mailbox area and went through the apartment building's double doors.

Outside, the air felt chilly. Few people walked about. Some huddled close to the barrel pit fires. A group of kids used a large slab of fallen concrete from the Plate to test out their skateboarding skills. It seemed like an average day in the Slums. However, Cloud found himself surprised by the presence of a tall, well-dressed figure with wavy brunette hair straight ahead.

At the apartment's entrance gates, the young man stood with his back pressed against a long metal pole and held a fancy PHS model to his ear. The man was clean-shaven and donned dark sunglasses over his eyes. Cloud had never seen him before. His neighborhood usually consisted of the regulars; same tenants and same visitors. Given what little light there was in the Slums, Cloud thought it was silly of him to wear the shades, no matter how slick they looked. This guy obviously came from the Plate.

Hands in his pants' pockets, Cloud strolled passed him, catching a whiff of his pleasing lavender cologne along the way. He concluded the man was here to see a whore or dealer. That was usually the case for city-folks from the Plate. The teen paid him no mind and headed in the direction of Wall Market.

* * *

Like most of the shops in Wall Market, the Pharmacy was poorly lit and relatively small in size. Cracked walls and warped flooring indicated years of neglect. Little consideration was also given toward presentation. Aside from the tattered posters of promotional deals that lifelessly hung along the walls and windows, some shelves looked either too cluttered with inventory or too empty. Many items had yet to return to their assigned spots. This made it difficult for customers to find what they were looking for. Meanwhile, a sickly green color cast over the entire place due to low-set ceiling beams. They occasionally flickered on and off again and gave off a sterile, uninviting vibe.

Few people wandered through the establishment. Electro-funk tunes played from a vintage stereo at the counter close to the Pharmacy's entrance. There, a twenty-something clerk with unkempt shoulder-length hair sat and flipped through the pages of a smut magazine. His white overall uniform had wrinkles and grease spots all over. He bobbed his head to the colorful beats of the current song. No doubt, the young man had a shotgun hidden under his counter for would-be muggers and assaulters. He sat behind a large protective metal cage and noisily slurped up the contents of a half-gallon cup through a straw, not noticing the two boys making out in a dark corner.

Cloud and Kyle stood in a poorly lit aisle by themselves. Flanked by a row of feminine hygiene products and vitamin supplements, their lips repeatedly pressed together. Cloud kept his eyes closed. He held a red basket with one hand while the fingers of his other pulled at the nipple ring through Kyle's meshed blouse. As always, the street rat gave little fucks over suitable attire and showed as much skin and metal studs as he could. Kyle's lean-shaped thigh rubbed against the budge of Cloud's cargo pants. The Nibel boy breathed hard and fast. He didn't care if Kyle's baby-blue lipstick smeared all over his mouth while they kissed or that he tasted of cinnamon. Focusing only on the friction between his legs, he groaned when the other boy rolled his hips forward again and again, working his rigid shape to full potential.

"Something tells me you're in the mood to fuck," Kyle mentioned in between their kissing.

"I am…" Cloud whispered back. His stiffness still pressing along the other's thigh, he sighed when Kyle's fingers found their way to it, teasing its base. "You're a bad influence on me…"

"I know." The street rat chuckled. He watched Cloud's eyes flutter while he massaged him over the fabric of his pants. "I can make rabbits disappear, turn water into wine, and transform saints into sinners. For my next act, I'll make a modest country boy become a glorified city slut."

Cloud opened his eyes and made a face. "God, Kyle, you talk too much. Shut up."

"Make me."

Kyle stuck his pierced tongue deep into the other's mouth. Cloud swallowed it down. The metal of a stud grazed the roof of his orifice. Tasting Kyle, he found himself getting more worked up, more anxious. He couldn't wait to finish their business in Wall Market and head back to his place.

As they occupied the last aisle of the Pharmacy, the Nibel boy vaguely remembered why they were here. Cloud hoped his bolder and braver companion would assist him in acquiring a very essential item and spare him any embarrassment. But the lowly street rat clearly had other ideas in his head. They were the very thoughts that possessed Cloud's nether regions since this morning. The more they basked in each other's body warmth, the difficult it became for Cloud to keep his resolve.

Thankfully, the street rat pulled back. He withdrew his tongue but kept his hand on the other's hard-on. "Well?" Kyle started, "You doing this or what?"

Cloud's half-lidded eyes stared at him. Then he looked over Kyle's shoulder to check the front of the Pharmacy. The object he'd come for was in clear sight, inside the glassed case behind the clerk.

For Cloud, it seemed funny – and downright annoying – that condoms had to be heavily secured alongside heavy prescription pills and potentially lethal chemicals. The only way to acquire them was by request. Granted, such measures needed to be taken to prevent shoplifters from stealing them. Rubbers were among the top ten most stolen items. Even the city folks on the Plate had trouble _protecting_ the protection. It still made Cloud's predicament awkward though.

"C'mon, you might as well get it over with." Kyle squeezed his tip. He visibly bit back a chuckle.

The dread of buying condoms in front of everyone in the store hit Cloud. He glanced back and forth between Kyle and the clerk. His voice drew quieter when he later offered, "How about you buy them for me? I'll give you… _something_ in return; something you've been bugging me for a long time."

"Now that _does_ sound promising…" the other boy admitted. Kyle stared directly at Cloud's lipstick-smeared mouth, understanding his words. However, a gleam appeared in his eyes. He presented a half-crooked smile. "But honestly? Seeing you suffer like this is more fulfilling. It's rare seeing you rattled by anything, let alone, by a box of rubbers. Ha!"

"Asshole." Cloud glowered back at him, tempted to punch him.

Kyle leaned in for another kiss. He clutched Cloud's erection harder, forcing the country-born boy to gasp. "The sooner you do this, the sooner we can get you a nice outfit. Then we can have some quality _fun_ time."

His member throbbing in Kyle's hand, Cloud intently looked at the cabinet behind the counter again.

Despite being seventeen, Cloud had to constantly remind himself he was a man and shouldn't feel ashamed by this. His decision to stock up on condoms was a very responsible, very adult decision, no matter its taboo implications. That didn't settle the knotted tension that swelled in his belly, however.

"I still don't see the point," Cloud debated, wiping off the blue color on his lips with the back of a hand. "Like I said, we're not going to do anything. I'm worried it'll give Jessie funny ideas."

"It doesn't hurt to prepare for the unexpected though," advised Kyle. He released his grip on Cloud and took a step back. His hand reached for the weapon attached to his belt. Kyle held it up to the light. "I carry my nunchucks all the time. Doesn't mean I'm gonna use 'em. Know what I mean?"

Cloud nodded. He knew Kyle was right – as always. Too many boys their age ended up with a STD or became reluctant fathers because they left things to chance or assumed the worst would never happen. Taking precautions was a good idea. Even so, Cloud couldn't shake off this dreadful feeling eating at him.

"I don't want to hurt her," he mumbled. His eyes locked onto an empty spot on the floor. "I feel weird buying that shit. It kinda cements the possibility that we're going to do it tonight. I… don't want that, especially when we're fooling around like this. It wouldn't be fair to her."

Kyle reached out with his hand. He placed a strand of wild blond hair away from Cloud's flushed face. "You said it yourself: it's just a date. This isn't Nibelheim. The dating scene is a lot different here in the big city. It's more opened. More flexible. More relaxed. Lots of people take multiple partners at the same time to see which ones work. You two aren't even a couple so there's no need to fret over this."

Cloud already knew this too. A date was only a date. Sex was only sex.

He immediately thought of his silver-haired Host. Sephiroth had many lovers on the side. The man was beautiful, so of course he would. His Host likely shared the same mentality as everyone else in the city. Sephiroth didn't sound offended when he learned about his date. If anything, he had offered his client tickets for an exclusive _Loveless_ show tonight. The knowledge of this irritated the country boy for some reason. Likewise, Cloud couldn't escape the gloomy feeling he felt when he thought about sleeping with Jessie tonight. She wasn't just a random girl he could _test out_: she was a cherished friend.

In the end, Cloud found himself still struggling against the _silly romantic notions_ his mother had beaten into his head during his younger years. He was bound by funny concepts as devotion, consideration, and discipline. He needed to break out of that cycle if he was going to find happiness in Midgar. Treating it as a personal challenge for himself, Cloud felt determined to see his mission at the Pharmacy through.

"All right, time to do this…" he declared, either to Kyle or to himself; he didn't know which.

Standing in the middle of the aisle, Cloud tried to ignore any prying eyes close by; anyone ready to judge his personal business. He had already filled his basket with meaningless items to mask his true motives for coming here. Cloud stood still, however, when a mother and her lively five-year-old child entered his aisle from the other end. He promptly covered his budge with the basket and stood further away from Kyle. At the back of Cloud's mind, he wondered why they were even at the feminine hygiene section.

The older woman looked to be the same age as his mother. While she checked the selection of yeast infection ointments available to her, her child ran up and down the aisle and knocked over many boxes filled with sanitary pads. The awful girl screamed, spat on the floor, and stuck her tongue at her mother when she was told to behave. At one point, she ran up to Cloud and kicked him on his ankle. The little girl giggled while he winced. She scurried back to her mother before he had the chance to scold her.

"Little shit…" muttered Kyle nearby. "I'm never having kids."

Rubbing his ankle with a free hand, Cloud wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.

Every once in a while the mother eyed Cloud from her spot, looking at him as if she knew _exactly_ why he was here. He, in turn, stared into his basket, pretending to be too preoccupied with his inventory to notice. Already, he could picture Mrs. Strife shake her head, her steel-blue eyes piercing into his soul and giving him the ultimate Mother-Guilt-Trip.

Cloud instantly felt a wave of relief settle over him once the woman in the aisle moved on. She grabbed her rotten child by the hand and walked to another section of the Pharmacy. Cloud exhaled. Then he checked the front of the store again.

Up ahead, an elder man was ready to get rung up. The clerk behind the counter rolled his eyes as he set his magazine down. He yawned and scanned the old man's items.

"Any time this century would be great," Kyle joked to Cloud, staring at the same direction. "Seriously, it's not like you haven't bought them before. Go stand in line already."

The other boy gripped the handles of his basket tighter, still keeping it in front of his crotch. Most of the time, Cloud got his rubbers off Biggs; his coworker gave them away like lollipops. On the rare occasion Cloud had to purchase them himself, he made sure to stop by the Pharmacy near closing time when hardly anyone was around. The clerk behind the cage would usually be a sweet chubby girl who also gave him his motion sickness pills. She cracked jokes and always made him feel at ease. Unfortunately, she wasn't working today, just the snot-nosed bum in the cage. About the only reprieve Cloud got right now was the lack of customers.

Aside from the old man getting ready to leave at the check-out line, there was the mother and her bratty child, a late-aged woman with a cane, and… a sharply dressed man with sunglasses. Cloud frowned at this particular fellow. Currently texting on his PHS, he looked exactly like the guy he had encountered in his neighborhood earlier. In fact… it _was_ him.

"He's _hot_," Kyle noted. He stood beside Cloud when he abruptly got quiet.

Seeing the suave man again seemed strange. Cloud chalked it up to coincidence. After all, Wall Market was a popular hotspot for Slum residents and Plate visitors alike. This guy probably stopped by the Pharmacy because the meds were considerably cheaper down here. However, the man held no basket on his person. His features also struck Cloud's curiosity the more he studied them. Despite the glasses hiding his eyes, his profile seemed irritatingly familiar.

That last thought came and went when the finely dressed man noticed Cloud and Kyle. He paused from his texting and locked eyes with the Nibel native. A small smile formed on his lips. Warmth spread across Cloud's face; the man really did have a nice smile. He observed him more and saw the handsome stranger raise his PHS at eye-level. The device flashed.

"Hey, I think that guy just snapped a picture of us," commented Kyle enthusiastically. He grinned and turned to Cloud. "He obviously likes what he sees, eh? Maybe he's looking for some three-way action."

Rolling his eyes, Cloud felt his skin grow warmer. He remained quiet. Upon closer observation, he saw the letter _K_ imprinted on the man's phone sleeve. A bluish light gleamed from his dark shades but Cloud dismissed it as an odd light reflection from the Pharmacy's shitty ceiling beams. Straight ahead, the handsome man nodded at them. Then he turned away and ventured off to another aisle.

_Weird_, Cloud thought. He half-expected the pretty fellow to come over and talk to them after taking their picture. But it seemed all he wanted was a memento.

"Hey, now's your chance," Kyle suddenly said, redirecting his attention back to the front of the store. Up ahead, the clerk bagged the old man's purchases. The elder wobbled away from the counter. "Go get your shit. I'm gonna get that man's phone number for you."

"_Don't_," Cloud rejected. "We don't know who that guy is. He could be a creep."

Letting out a sigh, the other boy shook his head. "Your hardcore-country-boy upbringing is showing its ugly face again. Really, Cloud, you'll never live life to the fullest if you fear the possibilities and think every guy who takes an interest in you is a creep."

"_You're_ interested in me and _you're_ a creep," Cloud pointed out with a snort.

"I'm _exceptional_," Kyle corrected him and lightly smacked the back of Cloud's head. "Seriously, though, you need to relax. Enjoy the moment. Live it up a bit and maybe – _just maybe_ – you'll stop looking like you're constipated all the damn time."

Cloud narrowed his eyes at Kyle's silly observation but did not rebuttal his main point. He agreed: he needed to stop overthinking things and go with the flow.

"Hurry up and talk to the clerk," urged Kyle as he walked away, following in the direction the handsome man disappeared to.

Cloud took Kyle's advice. Summoning the courage needed to approach the rugged fellow in the cage, he advanced toward the front of the Pharmacy. The current music pumped louder and harder; it matched the tempo of his heart's beat. His legs felt heavy but Cloud pushed onward anyway. He was determined to get over his personal anxieties, insecurities, and that infamous Nibel-Guilt-Complex that haunted every boy raised in the country side. When Cloud finally made it to the clerk's part of the store, he let out the air he'd unknowingly held in.

Stepping up to the counter, Cloud set his basket down near the man's cage. His eyes had trouble meeting the Pharmacy's associate. Only briefly did the blond-haired teenager try to peek at the selection of condoms in the case. He forgot the type he'd purchased last time. The white boxed ones? Blue? The clerk must've grown impatient with Cloud's silence. He spoke up in a loud, rough tone.

"What'cha need?" the clerk barked, not bothering to look up from his crude magazine. "You ready to check-out? Or what? I ain't got all day."

It took Cloud a moment to get his vocal cords to work again. Once he did, the words came out soft and uneven. "Um… I need a box of motion sickness pills."

He didn't need those, but it served as an excellent tactic in acquiring what he actually wanted.

"Eh?" The clerk flipped to the next page of his magazine. Electric guitars boomed from his stereo.

Running a hand through his locks of hair, Cloud did his best to keep his composure and not give the man a death stare. It was obvious the clerk wanted to be anywhere else but here right now. Working at Chocobo Chow for as long as he had, Cloud could relate to that sentiment. However, at this moment, his patience grew thin by his personal situation. He wanted to get this business over and done with fast.

In a louder, slower voice, Cloud repeated, "_Motion. Sickness. Pills_."

The man in the cage finally looked up from his magazine. A corner of his mouth drooped down. The eyebrows drew low. He stared at Cloud for a long moment. Then, without a word, he spun around in his chair. Its coils squeaked loudly as he rose to his feet and walked up to the cabinet a few feet away. Muttering a curse word, his keys jingled while he searched for the right one.

It didn't take long for the clerk to access the cabinet's contents. While he scanned through the large collection of pills and boxes there, Cloud noticed the well-dressed man in sunglasses again. He appeared at the corner of his eye; his PHS up to his ear as he talked to someone on the other line. They didn't make eye contact like before. In fact, the man walked passed Cloud without a glance his way.

Watching him leave through the Pharmacy's glassed doors, Cloud grew curious. This guy had spent a good amount of time here. Yet, he didn't purchase a thing. Odd.

Kyle trailed a few steps behind. Joining Cloud at the counter, he pressed his back against it and crossed his arms across his chest. The street rat's shoulders slouched. He sighed.

"That was fast," Cloud expressed with a scoff. "Did you scare him off with your _charms_?"

Kyle rewarded his snarky attitude with a middle finger. "No, I didn't, asshole. He had to leave and meet up with his friend right now. I didn't even get the chance to ask for his phone number for you."

"Not like I asked for it in the first place. Still, did you ask him why he took our photo?"

"Yeah, I did." Grinning, Kyle leaned closer to him. "Get this: the photo wasn't for him. It was for his friend." Noticing the perplexed look on Cloud's face, he elaborated, "Apparently, his friend has the hots for blond-haired guys with blue eyes but is kinda… _reclusive?_ He doesn't come out often. Mr. Hottie, therefore, acts as his eyes. He checks out persons of interest on his behalf. Pretty intense, huh?"

"I guess…" Cloud replied slowly.

He wasn't sure whether to feel intrigued or disturbed by this news. This revelation meant the smartly dressed fellow had been following him all this time. His presence in the Pharmacy wasn't a coincidence. However, this still didn't explain why this guy appeared outside his apartment.

"I don't know about you, but that sounds kinda fucked up," expressed Cloud later. "Basically, that guy is a spy for his master. For all we know, his master is a serial killer looking for blond-haired, blue-eyed boys to kidnap and stuff behind his walls as trophies. We just got put on the menu."

"Hah, you _would_ think that way," Kyle blurted in return with a glint in his eyes. He leaned further back against the counter and stared up at the ceiling. "But hey, if that's the case, I wonder which of us his _master_ wants. You? Or me? If he's as cute as his servant, I'll happily volunteer myself as his victim."

Cloud couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed by Kyle's words. He already hated the comparisons made between them on previous occasions, mostly because it was obvious who the winner would be. There was no way he could compete with Kyle's charms, confidence, and good looks. The prideful side of the Nibelheim native hated this feeling of inferiority.

When the clerk returned with his requested item, Cloud set these gloomy thoughts aside. Kyle turned around and both of them looked up at grungy young man in the cage.

Scanning the box of motion sickness pills at his register, the clerk asked above the loud music in a flat, even voice, "All right. I got your pills. Anything else you need?"

Beside Cloud, Kyle noticed the box of motion sickness medication and quirked a brow. He nearly chuckled, realizing his _strategy_. The street rat knew better than to open his mouth, however. He kept quiet even while Cloud sucked in air and struggled to talk again.

Feeling the heat rise on his cheeks, Cloud watched the clerk ring up the rest of his items from the basket. His mouth refused to cooperate and stayed shut. He glanced over at Kyle but the little shit offered no help. His companion merely twirled one of his nunchucks with a finger and began to whistle. It was when the clerk reached the last item in his basket that Cloud knew it was all on him to do this. Drawing closer to the metal cage, his eyes stayed low as he spoke. His voice sounded no more than a whisper.

"I… uh… I need a box of condoms."

In the process of bagging his items, the clerk paused and eyed him. "Huh? What was that?"

Again, that ridiculous loud music… Gritting his teeth, the seventeen-year-old boy gripped the edge of the counter, tempted to smash the stereo into pieces. The man had shitty taste in music anyway. Still, Cloud recollected himself and stayed focused on his current task. He glared up at the clerk with his steel-blue eyes. His next words emerged as sharp, clear, and to-the-point this time.

"_A box of condoms_," he demanded and kept his eyes on the other man.

Behind the metal cage, the clerk stood straighter. He blinked.

"You heard the man," Kyle reinforced and set his nunchucks aside. He glanced at Cloud and gave a silent nod, appearing both impressed and pleased with his assertive manner.

The two stared back at the man in the cage. He stayed quiet but his eyes grew wider; more alert. Both shoulders settled into a relaxed position. Surprisingly, the aloof façade the clerk had donned thus far dissipated as soon as a grin took shape, forming itself along the contours of his thin lips.

"_Ah._ Right. I got a shit-ton of those babies," confirmed the clerk. "You've come to the right place, man."

The clerk's lopsided smile got Cloud to loosen his own tensed shoulders. He breathed again.

"Getting your freak on tonight, eh?" the man began again. His tone contained a high-pitched melody to it now. He went through his keys and approached the cabinet once more.

"Damn right he is," Kyle answered and patted Cloud on the back. "This lover boy is gonna score. Big time. Multiple times, in fact. He is going to _own_ this city."

"Fuckin' A. Who's the lucky girl?" the clerk wanted to know. "She got a sister or a friend? Hook me up and I _might_ throw in these for free, man."

Cloud refrained from talking. He watched the clerk go through the cabinet's selection again and wished he hurried up. Even when the clerk no longer acted like a douche, this experience still felt about as nerve-wracking as buying a bag of weed from a dealer. It didn't help when the mother and her rotten daughter made their appearance. Coming from the other side of the store, they looked ready to check-out. Within seconds both stood behind Cloud and Kyle and waited in line.

Damn it.

"Mommy, I need to pee-peeeeeeee…" the girl whined.

"In a minute, honey, just hold on," urged the mother, "We're almost done here."

"But mommy! I need to pee-pee _now_! Hurry, hurry! Oh, mommy, look. They're selling candy. I want that candy. Can you buy me candy? Buy me candy. I want that candy. Give me candy!"

"No, honey, that's not candy. Those are cough drops. For sore throats. I'll buy you candy later."

"But mommy! I want candy and I want it _now_!"

This verbal exchange went back and forth until the child wailed. Her screams pierced Cloud's ears. Shutting his eyes tightly, he muffled a curse word. He couldn't wait to get the hell out of here. This kid was a handful. Even the clerk behind the gated fence looked annoyed and covered his ears.

"I want candy! Give me candy!" The child formed tiny fists with her hands. Her face flushed red.

"Baby, please," her mother pleaded. "I'll get you candy, I swear. We'll get some after this. Just please…"

"I don't like you anymore!" The child jumped up and down before slapping her mother on the leg. She hit her two more times before turning away, running for the glassed doors. "I hate you!"

"No, come back!" The mother started after her. "Come back! Don't go out there!"

Opening his eyes, Cloud furrowed his brows. He saw the girl bolt for the exit of the Pharmacy. Her shiny red shoes clacked loudly against the floor. Kyle sighed in relief from where he stood.

"Good riddance," was all he said and watched the drama unfold with narrowed eyes. He didn't move from his spot.

Cloud felt the same way. He didn't want to intervene either. Let the IMs on patrol handle it, he told himself. This wasn't his problem. His jaw clenched when he stayed put for a moment longer, however. Something nagged at him. It hit him at the belly and grew from there. Cloud knew what it was. He tried to deny its existence, reminding himself that it bound him to the old irrelevant ways. Once his clear blue eyes stared at the mother chasing after her daughter, however, that became the final straw for him.

As much as that spoiled girl got under his skin, Wall Market was a dangerous place, especially for kids. Many people harbored ill intentions toward minors; some more perverse than others. It didn't take long for Cloud's body to move at its own accord. Even when Kyle yelled after him, telling him to let the infantrymen deal with it, he sprinted after the child anyway. He knew Mrs. Strife would be royally pissed at her son if he simply stood back and did nothing. It wasn't the Strife way. The Strife way entailed getting neck-deep into a shitty situation with cuts and bruises along the way.

Years of routine jogs and sprints in preparation for Shinra's try-outs enabled Cloud to pick up speed and catch up. He ran past the mother. Right as the little girl swung the glassed doors open and took her first steps outside, he snatched her by the wrist. Cloud held onto the child even as she tried to sprint away. A few people outside the Pharmacy noticed them. They swiftly walked by and looked the other way. That didn't surprise Cloud much. Here in the Slums, and up in the Plate, people minded their own business. Some didn't care while others simply didn't want to get entangled in a nasty mess. Fair enough.

In a short distance, Cloud spotted the well-dressed man again. He hadn't left for the Plate right away after all. His PHS was in front of him like before, apparently recording this colorful event. He smiled. Cloud growled but bit back a curse word, mindful of his current company. He turned away and headed back into the Pharmacy with the little girl in tow.

The child screamed and thrashed about. Cloud ignored the pain she inflicted with her nails. They dug deep into his skin in an effort to free her wrist. He managed to drag the little girl passed the Pharmacy's entry doors anyway and kept her in place long enough for her mother to arrive. When she did, the woman scooped her up in her arms and looked straight at him.

"Oh God, I can't thank you enough!" Tears ran down her cheeks. She held the girl closer to her chest. "I thought I lost my baby forever. Thank you for giving her back to me."

Feeling on the spotlight, Cloud couldn't figure out how to respond and thus kept his mouth shut. He didn't feel he deserved any praises anyway. _Nice? Wonderful?_ He was hardly any of that.

Cloud recalled his own terrible, younger years. On countless occasions he put his mother through hell. The fights… The terrible words… Running away from home… It was a wonder Mrs. Strife put up with him at all. Anger and violence had been his way at expressing his fears and guilt. His mother soaked it all up like a sponge, maintaining her resolve while keeping her heart open to him. Because of this, Cloud couldn't fault this Slums mother for raising such a rotten child or the little girl for becoming so rotten. Shit happened. Life happened. The two looked like they'd seen their share of despair and tried to cope with it as best they could. Helping them, thus, was common sense for Cloud. It didn't warrant praises.

"I'm so sorry my girl misbehaved like that," continued the mother, "I'm just so glad there are nice, wonderful boys like you still around. If I ever have a son I hope he turns out to be like you."

Irony had a funny way of slapping Cloud across the face because it chose that exact moment for the clerk to return. In his hands were several boxes of condoms.

Over the beats of eclectic funk music, the man's voice boomed when he proudly announced, "All righty, so I didn't know which kind you wanted, but I got standard-sized rubbers, rubbers slicked in-and-out with lube, beveled rubbers for that extra stimulation kick, and fruity-flavored rubbers for the oral adventurous types. If you need anything bigger or, ahem, _smaller_, I got those too."

Cloud felt the color on his face drain. His ears burned while the rest of his body's temperature dipped to extreme lows. He wasn't sure if time itself had slowed down, only that each passing moment stretched on forever and consequently made everything more dreadful. Beside him, Cloud heard something akin to a low chuckle. He didn't dare look Kyle's way.

"So which ones you want?" The clerk laid out all the boxes in orderly fashion.

"Mommy, look!" Still in her mother's arms, the little girl pointed at all the pretty colored boxes on the counter. "He's buying balloons! Can I get a balloon? Give me a balloon. I want the purple ones. I want purple balloons!"

As if the weight of gravity suddenly crashed down on him, Cloud found it difficult to stay on his feet. At any second he could collapse.

By now, the last person in the Pharmacy, an old woman with the cane, made her way to the check-out line. Her squinty, beady eyes widened to twice their size when she spotted the boxes of condoms. Trying to straighten her hair to make it more presentable, she flashed Cloud a toothless grin.

"Balloons!" resumed the girl. "I want purple balloons! Give me balloons! Now!"

It was clear the child was set to have another episode. Cloud no longer cared. He blankly stared at the items he had requested. His mouth gone dry, he couldn't respond to the clerk, even when he repeatedly asked him which one he wanted. This nightmare surprisingly ended when the center of attention shifted away from him.

It went straight to Kyle.

"Those aren't balloons, honey; they're condoms," he told the little girl with a smile that showed all white teeth. "They're rubbers daddy puts over his pee-pee whenever he wants to get his freak on with mommy. That's how babies are made, kid: daddy's joo-joo juice."

_Oh god_, Cloud immediately thought.

No surprise, the mother's mouth dropped. She held her child even closer to her and looked at Kyle as if he'd just grown horns on his head. The street rat maintained his smile though. He went as far as to wink and wagged his pierced tongue at the child in her arms. She started to cry.

Behind the cage, the clerk's face grew red from his constant laughing. The man had trouble breathing. Shaking his head, he finally settled down enough to ask Cloud again, "Which ones you want, _lover boy_?"

At a loss for words, Cloud stood still. He was on autopilot mode right now.

"_All_ of them," Kyle answered on his behalf. He removed a wad of rolled-up Gil from his low-rise jeans and dumped it on the counter.

Cloud stared at the odd exchange, still unable to move. The fact he was taking every kind of rubber available didn't faze him one bit. At this point, nothing shocked him. As soon as the clerk bagged up everything and handed him his items, he finally got his body to work again. Electrical signals from his brain surged down the length of his spinal cord and ordered all muscles throughout his body to _move_. Cloud snatched the bags and grabbed Kyle's hand. Both of them promptly got the hell out of there.

As Cloud and Kyle scurried toward the glass doors, the girl in the mother's arms cried louder. The last words Cloud heard before passing through the Pharmacy's doors were '_You told me cupcake sprinkles made babies, mommy! Cupcake sprinkles!_'

* * *

Once outside of the Pharmacy, both boys darted down a long, wide path in Wall Market. Steam from pipes and vents continuously puffed into the air from nearby establishments and residences. The area burst with people, smells, and noise. It was the weekend so Wall Market drew in a bigger crowd than the usual. Ignoring the hustlers and drunks, Cloud and Kyle moved beyond a busy intersection. They found a secluded quieter spot underneath a tall skeletal pillar that stretched up for miles. Above their heads, four large Wutai symbols ran down vertically and buzzed brightly in neon-pink lights. The two stood close together. Bathed in bright pink light, they observed the fogged and clustered atmosphere.

It took Cloud a while to recompose himself. When he did, he turned to Kyle beside him. The boy's own pair of blue eyes looked purple under the neon light. Cloud stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, though, the corners of his mouth twitched. Cheeks blossomed with color. A gradual smile took hold of the rural Nibel teen. It stretched out. A moment later, Cloud erupted in laughter. It was a loud, hearty one; one he hadn't experienced in ages. Not since Nibelheim. Kyle followed suit. Their sounds joined the ongoing ruckus of Wall Market.

The quest to purchase rubbers had been fulfilled, Cloud thought to himself as he guffawed nonstop. Que the victory music. It had been a fucked up situation, one he wanted to lock away in his chamber of memories and think about only when he was in the mood to laugh at himself. Or kick himself. Having Kyle around only made it harder to forget it any time soon. However, Cloud appreciated the street rat's presence _and_ his ability to endure crazy scenarios like that, even when it meant tossing another monkey wrench into the machine and seeing the chaotic results of it.

The two Slum boys finally settled down from their laughing fit. Facing each other, silence and stillness prevailed between them. Their eyes locked onto each other.

It was only when Cloud dropped his bags on the ground that their bodies clashed together. Arms slid to available, ready spots. Hands clutched onto certain parts tightly. Cloud took the initiative this time. He leaned forward and smashed his lips against Kyle's. Their mouths swayed left-to-right, continuously moving in opposing positions until one of them needed to breathe.

"Gods, you're a real piece of work…" Cloud hastily muttered in between their kissing.

"I know…" Kyle took the compliment in full stride. His hands drifted below and grabbed the mounds of Cloud's backside, squeezing them.

Cloud felt his arousal in his pants push against Kyle's. Their kiss grew more frantic. Tongues wetly slipped back and forth. Fingers ventured toward firmer areas. Kyle had to pull his face away when their actions became more demanding; more intense. Lips only inches apart, he noted the heated look in Cloud's eyes and instantly knew what he wanted right now.

"Not yet," the street rat said, out of breath. "We still need to get you something nice to wear for tonight. We'll get that sorted first. And then…"

"And then what?' Cloud challenged. His eyes still settled on Kyle. "You going to fulfill that offer you gave me when you called? I can remember _two_ things mentioned."

One of Kyle's fingers followed the splitting path of Cloud's buttocks. It lingered at one particular spot for too long. Afterward, he withdrew his hand and used it to reach into his jeans' front pocket. Kyle pulled out a tightly wrapped, fat hand-rolled blunt.

"Sweetie, I _always_ aim to deliver in my promises," he said, waving it in front of Cloud's face.

Cloud parted his lips just enough for Kyle to slip his prize in between his teeth.

"As for the _other_ thing," resumed the street rat, "We'll see how well you behave at the Boutique."

The fatty J stayed at the side of Cloud's mouth. Its tip reactively bobbed up and down when he quietly remarked, "You know, you're not the only one who is in the mood of giving…"

Hearing that, Kyle arched both brows. His attention focused on Cloud's lips. "What, you gonna finally put that pretty mouth of yours to work? Have my dreams become realized at last?"

Cloud maintained his silence but kept his half-lidded eyes on Kyle. His teeth gently bit down on the joint. The other boy noticed the subtle action and softly chuckled while he lit it up for him with a match. It burned brightly. Shortly after Cloud took his first burn, he grabbed Kyle's hand and dragged him along. Together, they headed in the direction of the Boutique to take care of business.


	23. Boutique

**Author's Note:** _Cloud gets new 'duds'. Also, lots of hanky-panky here. Lots._ _Like, my head hurts from editing over 10 pages of it... (Warnings: alcohol, language, Cloud getting his freak on)_

* * *

Chapter 22: Boutique

When Cloud first stepped inside the Boutique with Kyle, he didn't anticipate walking in the middle of a quarrel. Behind the shop's counter, a rough looking fellow sat slouched with arms crossed. The well-fitted blazer that covered his broad shoulders revealed many wrinkles while the jeans that fitted nicely over his lean and toned legs contained loose threads. His disheveled ash-gray hair dangled down to his neck, nearly covering his face as he bowed his head down. In contrast, the young woman kept her items pressed, properly tucked in, and in good condition. Her hair was pulled back in a fancy bun. Towering over the man's slumped form, the color of her cheeks grew red as she raised her voice.

"You better not drink another drop while I'm gone." The young female placed both hands on her full hips and barked, "This is the last time. _I mean it._"

"I haven't touched a damn thing…" insisted the fifty-something man. Voice deep and rough, each word that slid out of his mouth sounded slurred.

So caught up in their heated argument, the two hadn't heard the sound of the door's bell chime as it closed or notice their new arrivals. Their bickering ensued.

"Stop lying to me," demanded the woman, "You can't keep getting drunk like this. It's bad for your health and for business. You're constantly getting plastered and scaring off the customers!"

"Bah! For the _last_ time I'm not drunk. I'm completely…" He paused to burp aloud. "…fine."

The woman growled and clenched her hands into balls of fists. Her eyes suddenly widened when she noticed Cloud and Kyle by the door. Clearing her throat, she stood straighter and relaxed her fingers. "I, uh, gotta head off to work now…" she muttered to the man. "I'll be back as soon as my shift is over. Behave yourself. Okay? Love you, Dad."

She planted a kiss on her father's reddened forehead and then gathered her bag from the counter. On her way out of the Boutique, she smiled and nodded at the two boys. Kyle stepped out of her way while Cloud held the door for her. The door jingled again when it closed.

A low-beat tune from the shop's static-riddled speakers filled the awkward silence among the three males. Cloud was surprised to see no one else here. He expected the Boutique to be buzzing with people and noise, especially on a busy weekend in Wall Market. Observing the shop owner again, he saw him reach into a bottom drawer of his counter and remove a large bottle. It was filled to the tip with an auburn-red liquid. Its label read, _Ifrit's Hellfire_.

"Want some?" the shop owner offered with a wink.

Cloud raised a brow while Kyle snickered next to him.

Kyle was the first to reach the counter. No surprise, the unruly boy accepted the bottle without hesitation and swallowed down its contents. He squeezed his eyes shut almost immediately. His entire face turned red. Kyle sputtered a _holy shit_ and coughed many times, which earned him a hearty chortle from the man behind the counter. It took the boy awhile to breathe again. Once he did, he turned to his companion and held the bottle up with trembling fingers. Cloud strolled next to him.

Admittedly, Kyle's reaction nerved Cloud. The made boy's tolerance to alcohol was high. For him to react like _that_? This drink meant serious business. Still, it all got Cloud curious. The fatty J he smoked with Kyle earlier dried out his mouth and made him thirsty enough for a drink. He reasoned to himself that he could handle a sip of Ifrit's Hellfire. _Right?_ The flushed color on Kyle's cheeks only encouraged Cloud to take the bottle and test his limits. Already, his nostrils flared from the bottle's fumes. Gulping down a decent amount, the flat of his tongue instantly tingled and numbed on contact. The liquid burned down his throat like lava. Cloud's eyes produced tears as he bent over and violently coughed.

"Haven't seen you here for a while, Nunchaku," the shop owner mentioned above Cloud's loud hacking fits. He retrieved the bottle and later asked, "Your boss workin' your sassy, lilly-white ass off?"

Kyle bobbed his head and patted Cloud's back. "Yep. I gotta meet-up with the Don after this. He's expecting company this afternoon or some shit like that. I got bodyguard duty. _Booooring._"

"Who's your friend? He's got nice fair skin."

"This is Cloud." Still patting his back, Kyle revealed, "He has a hot date tonight. We're here to find him something delicious and sinful to wear, Lenard."

"Ah, hot dates are the best." Lenard's glassy eyes brightened. "Got something in mind?"

Cloud's coughing fit finally settled down but he remained quiet. Not only did his tongue still feel numb, but he honestly didn't have an answer to Lenard's question. This whole thing was _Kyle's_ idea.

"Maybe," Kyle answered on his behalf, "I'd like to scope out the place first. See what I missed, y' know?"

"Jolly good. My new shit is toward the dressin' rooms. Be sure to check it out."

"Fabulous. Mind if we stash our crap here?" Kyle indicated the plastic bags they still carried from their visit at the Pharmacy. "We got a shit-ton of rubbers you can help yourself to."

"Son, I haven't found a good lay in ages so I doubt I'll need 'em. It's a good thing you both are protectin' yourselves though. Lotta psychotic bitches out there that wanna entrap pretty boys like you." Lenard raised the bottle to his lips. "Go ahead and dump the bags here. Make yourselves at home. I'll check on you boys later. I'm just gonna wet my beaker for a moment…"

The shop owner proceeded to drink straight out of the bottle. It baffled Cloud to see him chug it down like water. This man's blood must've been fused with fire. Once their belongings were placed at the counter, Cloud and Kyle left Lenard alone. They traveled deeper into the Boutique.

Despite the owner's tussled appearance, the shop itself looked well kept. It had a spotless wooden floor that smelled of fresh pine oil. An impressive grid of flashy lights spanned across the ceiling and bathed the entire boutique with rainbow colors. Various outfits hung along metal-meshed walls while stacks of bottoms and tops sat on rectangular tables. An impressive collection of shoes filled the cabinets close to the Boutique's counter. Not far from them was a door that likely led to Lenard's office. Currently closed, it was off-limits to the public. Cloud swallowed hard when they came across a section dedicated to women's lingerie soon after. Faceless mannequins stood post to showcase several provocative pieces.

"The Boutique has a gorgeous selection here," noted Kyle as he raised a leather corset in his hands to eye-level. "It's all handmade, can you believe that? Lenard used to be a successful fashion designer on the Plate. Made millions of Gil. But the bastard lost his mojo and ended up in this shithole."

"Serious? _That_ guy?" Cloud cocked a thumb back at the shop owner. He saw Lenard sway his head back-and-forth while he slammed his already half-empty bottle down on the counter. "_That_ guy was a millionaire fashion designer?"

"Uh-huh. He was the best. He worked with every supermodel in the world."

Cloud observed Lenard again. While it was hard to imagine _that_ guy being a world-acclaimed designer, he could see hints of his glory days in his hazel-green eyes. They were clear and intense. Likewise, the high cheekbones, full lips, and strong-jawline revealed a handsome rugged man beneath the unkempt hair and clothes. Lenard must've been a real heartbreaker in his youth. Fixating on his large hands, Cloud studied the way they touched the glassed bottle. Clutched its neck. _Gripped it_.

"Lenard kept getting blitzed during his dry spell," Kyle elaborated, still inspecting the corset in his hands, "He developed a bad reputation as a man hard to work with. His last public appearance was at the Autumn Midgar Fashion Show. He took a piss on President Shinra's shoes and got arrested."

"Damn. Was he trying to make a political statement?"

"Nah. He couldn't find the restrooms. The damn drunken fool just took a whiz right there and then, not realizing he was pissing on the most important man in the world. It's been downhill for him ever since."

"No shit." Cloud ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Mouth dried, he still felt thirsty. And hungry.

"Lenard is still a great man though. I'm sure he'll make a comeback someday." Kyle put the corset down on the table and remarked with a grin, "I buy all of my lace stockings and underwear from him."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Cloud. Not. One. Bit.

Moving onward, the back of the shop led to a wide hallway. The lights were different here: uniformed and low-lit. Dressing rooms flanked both sides of the corridor and led to a tall three-way mirror at the end. Couches clustered at the center of the dressing area, right next to a coffee table littered with fashion magazines. A sign, _New Collection_, hung over two long racks close by. They contained an assortment of tops and bottoms.

"Let's start with the basics, shall we?" began Kyle as he fingered through a row of men's dress shirts.

Cloud made a face, already regretting this. "Nothing too _out_ there. I don't want to look stupid."

"You see yourself in the mirror today, sweetie? You look like a Slums thug ready to bash someone's head with baseball bat." Kyle looked up and down at Cloud, eyeing his jersey tee and patchy cargo pants. "What, you playing against the Cactuars today? In that case, batter up."

Rolling his eyes, Cloud joined Kyle by the rack. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this crap over with."

"That level of _enthusiasm_ will take you far, dear."

"Shut up."

For over an hour, they went over various colors and styles. Hip-hop music played in the background, frequently interrupted by static. Bored and high, Cloud's face appeared flat and lifeless. He stepped in and out of his dressing room with outfits he absolutely despised. Kyle's idea of _fashion _involved chains, leather, shiny fabrics, and meshed materials that allowed as much skin to show. Cloud felt like a male gigolo in them. All the while, Kyle laid spread across one of the couches; a smug look on his face.

"Spin around," the Prince of the Underworld commanded and twirled a finger in the air. "Spin, spin, spin and look at yourself in the mirror, my darling. Do you like it?"

Eyes half-closed, Cloud spun around once in front of the three-way mirror. He could see the crack of his ass peek out from his low-rise jeans. The glittery yellow sleeveless shirt glowed brightly against the lights. It fit snuggly against his already scrawny frame. The fur vest only added to Cloud's annoyance. Its fluffy material somehow agitated his nose. He sniffled loudly before lumbering back into his dressing room without a word. It was time to try on the next set of nightmarish clothes.

In many ways, Cloud felt grateful few customers visited the Boutique. He didn't want anyone to witness this catastrophe. Those that _did_ stop by the shop left in a matter of minutes after making a purchase. Lenard's drunken state and random outbursts certainly explained the lack of people here. Any who tried to make a return of their purchase retreated from whence they came. Likewise, those that asked for discounts or tested Lenard's patience scurried to the exit as fast as they could. The Boutique stayed relatively empty, save for the two boys at the dressing area.

When Lenard finally arrived to check on them, his face appeared redder and shinier than before. Cloud sensed the man went through the whole bottle of Ifrit's Hellfire after an elderly lady stormed out of his shop, screaming about cotton panties. The man's hands now held a blue bottle called _Diamond Dust_.

Leaning slightly to one side, Lenard stood next to Kyle by the couches and studied Cloud. His eyes drifted up and down while thick brows pulled close together. The young Nibel native couldn't decipher Lenard's expression but assumed it had something to do with the ridiculous clothes he currently wore – red leather pants and a polka-dotted shirt with a wide collar. This was still too bold of a look for him. His legs feeling hot and sticky, Cloud fiddled with his pants. He tried to loosen them at the crotch area.

"You model, kid?" Lenard at last spoke. His words sounded spaced out and low.

The question caught Cloud off-guard. He stopped fidgeting with his crotch. "Uh, no…"

Lenard scratched his unshaven chin and cocked his head to one side. "You should. You're short, a bit _too_ short, but you definitely got the body and the aura."

"Aura?"

"Yeah. The _aura_."

Confused, Cloud turned to Kyle for an explanation. His companion offered him only a shoulder shrug.

"An aura can speak volumes about a person without sayin' a word," explained Lenard and wiped the beads of sweat off his nose with a sleeve. "Photographers dedicate their lives trying to record it; artists attempt to recreate it. Some auras barely have presence while others shine brightly. That's the secret behind high-profiled, powerful individuals, y' know. Their auras _scream_ to the world…"

On the couch, Kyle turned around and dangled an arm over the backseat. He looked up at Lenard. "Does Cloud's_ aura_ scream to you, old man?"

Lenard stumbled forward but stopped. Again, he cocked his head to one side. Quietly, he replied, "I don't know if it screams to me, but there's definitely something… _profound_ about it."

Both Cloud and Kyle exchanged another glance at each other.

"There's something sad and beautiful about you, kid." Focusing on Cloud, Lenard held the bottle to his mouth and took a drink. Afterward, he muttered, "It's like wandering through a vast field of snow and dead trees during a starless night. I can't tell whether I want to cry or smile at the scenery…"

Looking away, Cloud broke eye contact. He didn't offer a comment back. Something about Lenard's words struck him. They reminded him of his conversation with Sephiroth days ago. _Despair reeks from you, boy, but there is something else that burns in those extraordinary blue eyes of yours_.

Was this what the Host meant? His… _aura?_

It was at this point Kyle snorted out loud and broke the odd silence. His eyes darted to the shop owner again. "You are _sooo_ drunk, Lenard. Your daughter is gonna be super pissed when she returns later and finds you drunk and foolin' around with boys less than half your age."

Lenard's face grew slack for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. His hazel-green eyes gleamed as he smacked Kyle on the shoulder. "H-hey! Screw you, you little shit. I ain't drunk!"

As more laughter ensued between them, Cloud relaxed his tensed abdominal muscles. He put the strange thoughts related to Lenard's words behind him and pulled off his blouse. Shirtless now, Cloud was ready to head back into his dressing room to take off the annoying leather pants as well. They continued riding up his crotch – how anyone could wear leather pants all day was beyond him.

"Let's kick things up a notch," Lenard suggested before Cloud reentered his dressing room. He raised the blue bottle in his hand. "If the next outfit is a hit, we set it aside. If it's a miss, we share a round. Got it?"

"Ooooh, that sounds like super fun!" Kyle clapped his hands repeatedly.

Cloud's jaw danced. At the rate he currently went, they'd _all_ end up dead-drunk. So far nothing worked. Despite his pleasant high, Cloud's patience waned. Shopping for clothes proved downright _annoying_. He hated it. Still, now that fashion guru was here maybe his luck would change. Cloud drew his eyes to the man. He noticed Lenard's gaze drift across his bare chest. Up and down. Their eyes met shortly after.

Cloud licked his lips. Quietly, he agreed, "Sure. I'm up for it, old man."

Lenard set the bottle on the coffee table and retreated to the front of the store. Cloud saw him lock the doors and flip a sign there. The Boutique was now closed to the public. This made Kyle clap his hands again. He repeatedly called Lenard _a naughty old man_. The shop owner ignored him and twirled his store's keys several times around a finger before shoving them into his jacket's pocket.

"Let the game begin then," Lenard announced with a smile.

* * *

Colors from the Boutique's lights blurred and danced all around Cloud as he looked up at the ceiling from his dressing room. He saw a kaleidoscope of hues spin in slow motion. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he thought the bittersweet flavor of Lenard's latest drink went down a little _too_ smoothly. What Diamond Dust lacked in punch, it more than made up for in allure and taste. Cloud took an immediate liking to it. Like metal joints given oil, he now felt looser. Lighter. That swirly sensation in his head lured him away from the typical questions and thoughts he might've entertained under a clearer state. Instead, it allowed him to focus on Kyle's and Lenard's crazy suggestions with little fuss.

Lenard's feedback actually proved helpful. The shop owner was sensible to his personal tastes. Cloud liked the three potential outfits proposed to him. The man recommended clothes that accented his blue eyes and lean frame. Nothing too wild. But nothing too boring either. His only concern now involved how much it all cost and whether he could afford it.

"_Come on out!_" commanded Lenard outside his dressing room door. "_Let's see it!_"

Somehow, the fashion guru was still able to talk in complete sentences. The man certainly could hold his liquor. That was more than Cloud could say for himself. He attempted to leave his dressing room to showcase his latest outfit but accidentally slammed his face against the door.

"Ouch…" Cloud rubbed his nose. He tried to open the door but it didn't budge. He tried again. It still didn't move. With a growl, he knocked on his door and spat, "I'm _stuck_. I can't get out. Did you assholes lock me in? I'll kick both your asses. Get me out!"

On the other side of the door, the muffled sound of Kyle's laughter rose above the Boutique's music. "_Dumb-ass, did you lock yourself in again?_"

Cloud checked his door. Sure enough, the latch was still secured. Rolling his eyes at himself, he undid the bolt, pushed down on the door's handle, and stumbled out of his dressing room.

On the couch, Lenard and Kyle immediately applauded when Cloud made his appearance. They sat with Gil spread across the cushions. Pulling out his PHS, the shop owner snapped photos of Cloud. The phone's flashes made the novice model blink and squint his eyes. He stood in an unsteady stance.

"Spin around," commanded Kyle in a high-pitched voice. "Spin, spin, spin, and look at yourself."

Cloud did his usual spin but had trouble walking in his five-inch-high platform shoes. When he succeeded on his second attempt, he saw his reflection. The three-way-mirror showed a blue eyed boy donned in a rainbow-dyed raincoat, meshed shirt, striped pants, and top hat that blossomed with fake flowers and tiny lights from its band. It was an atrocious outfit, one Lenard and Kyle laughed at it. They tossed Gil into the air. Carefully, the inebriated teen squatted down to collect it all.

Somewhere along the way, likely on their _tenth_ shot, the drinking game's rules changed. It had become a game of wits. Kyle and Lenard took turns choosing various items in the shop for him to wear. Cloud entertained all sorts of requests, from the tame to the chic to the generally stupid. So far, he had amassed two hundred Gil from it, more than enough to cover this month's rent and food expenses.

Once Cloud collected his prize, he tried to stand at full height again. He failed. Feeling light in the head, he lost his balance. The heel of his shoe slipped forward and he landed on his ass. This resulted in a round of laughter. Cloud's throat grew hoarse from the loud sounds that repeatedly came out of it. His entire face brightened red. Feeling too heavy to get up again, he stayed on the ground.

"Next bet?" Cloud asked later while flipping through the wad of Gil in his hands. He tried to count how much he earned but had trouble steadying his vision. He couldn't tell if it was ten G-notes or _twenty_. Eventually he gave up and looked up at the two on the couch. "I'm ready for the next request."

"Yeah, you _look_ ready," Kyle replied sarcastically, watching him sprawled on the floor.

Despite winning, Cloud hand-motioned for one of them to give him the half-empty Diamond Dust bottle. Lenard slugged forward. As the man stood in front of him, Cloud joked, "I'm lookin' to get myself a sports car after I clean out your pockets. Or maybe a villa at Costa del Sol? I can't decide."

"Smart-ass," Lenard shot back and brought the Diamond Dust close to the boy's face.

Looking up at the man, Cloud made it a point to stick out his tongue and open his mouth wide. He saw the way Lenard's eyes wandered down his body; saw the way they fixated back to his lips. Seeing his bold action affect the older man's aloof demeanor admittedly amused Cloud. It gave him a rush. Lenard must've realized this because a corner of his mouth soon lifted.

Lenard traced Cloud's lips with the tip of his bottle before pouring its sweet liquid down his throat. It was a large dose, enough to nearly make Cloud gurgle and choke. The shop owner pulled the drink away and waited for the boy to properly breathe again.

"Because of you, kid, I'm all wiped out," Lenard muttered with a smile. He removed the excess of Diamond Dust off Cloud's mouth with a thumb. "Funny how a pretty face can do that to a man."

"You shouldn't play with fire then, old man," Cloud stated as matter-of-fact, letting his Nibel accent slip. He leaned forward and parted his lips again. This time, his mouth attached itself to Lenard's thumb. Tasting the Diamond Dust's sweet essence there, Cloud sucked on it.

"And here I thought Kyle was the bold one…" Lenard whispered down to him, sounding out of breath.

Cloud withdrew with a soft pop-like sound. His blue eyes pierced Lenard's. "I'm a chockful of surprises."

Lenard smirked. He tenderly stroked Cloud's cheek with the back of his hand. Then he glanced at Kyle on the couch. "It's your turn, kid. Better make it a good one. Your boy here has gotten super cocky. I might have to spank him."

"By all means, daddy, please do," encouraged the other youth with a nod. "He might like it. Of course, don't deprive me of my next request. I guarantee you it's gonna be a good one."

Kyle shoved a hand down his pants. At first, it looked like he was reaching for his cock to pull it out. Instead, it was his wallet. Cloud scoffed at this. He should've known he'd keep that damn thing in his underwear – what a fucking weirdo_._ He saw the other boy remove ten Gil slips. Kyle abandoned the couch to join them. Bending down, he snatched the top hat off Cloud's head and placed it on himself.

Kyle waved the G-notes in the air. "See this? One thousand Gil here. _One thousand_. You _man_ enough to handle this request?" The devilish smile on his face suggested this was going to be a _real_ challenge.

Standing next to Cloud, Lenard repeated to himself: "_One thousand Gil_..._?_ Sheeit. Maybe _I_ should take up this bet. Get my damn Gil back…"

From the ground, a snicker slipped out of Cloud's mouth. The curious teenager felt more intrigued than concerned by this upcoming challenge. Clothes were just clothes, after all. Jeggings. Tanks. Fuzzy sweaters. Leg warmers. Kitty ears. Tunics. While none of that was his personal style, it certainly wouldn't scare him away from one thousand Gil. He might've been drunk and high, but definitely not stupid.

"I'm up for _anything_," Cloud declared. He would've stood and stared at Kyle at eye-level to further prove his point. But his legs still felt too heavy to move.

"You sure? You might regreeeeeeet it," Kyle sang back.

"Stop wasting my time and throw down."

Granted, it might've been a rash decision on his part to jump before checking his landing spot. Yet, Cloud grew eager to wipe that smug look off Kyle's face. It annoyed him to no end. Whatever his friend wanted to prove he wanted to _disprove_ it. As Cloud sat cross-legged on the ground, he waited for Kyle's request. He expected him to choose some vulgar item that would either ride up his crotch again or reveal more skin than he would've wanted. Instead, his companion tossed him a left-field request.

"I want you to wear a dress, Cloud."

Golden brows shifted. Lips slightly parted. Cloud blinked and leaned back. He looked up at Kyle and wondered if he had misheard him. His liquid-tainted thoughts made it damn near impossible to focus and think straight. Cloud mentally danced back and forth and concluded Kyle must've meant _dressy_. Not _dress._ The wide-eyed expression on Lenard's face, however, indicated otherwise. The once acclaimed fashion designer stared at Kyle with brows set high. He didn't say a word. Cloud realized right then and there that Kyle meant… _dress_. As in a _woman's dress_.

"That's… against the rules," Cloud said under his breath. He shifted and no longer sat cross-legged.

"We never placed any restrictions," Kyle pointed out and tipped his top hat to Cloud like a gentleman. "You wear whatever we dare you to wear. Since there's a women's section here, it's fair game."

The muscles along Cloud's stomach contracted. He tensed up. _Damn_.

"You still want that _sports car_?" Kyle egged him on. "_Villa in Costa del Sol?_ Then go all the fuck out. I won't give you this Gil if you half-ass it. The world doesn't like half-ass bums. Got it?"

Cloud didn't give the snarky pretty boy an answer yet. Instead, he snatched the bottle from Lenard's hand. The lowly teen chugged down more than the usual. Beside him, Lenard stood quiet.

Cloud initially thought the shop owner would also take delight in his misery. However, Lenard looked surprisingly… _elated_. His hazel eyes ventured back and forth between the two boys before they settled back on Cloud at last. Lenard's voice contained a lively high note in it.

"I can pick you out a dress," he offered. "Kyle likely told you what I used to be. I've always entertained the idea of feminine clothes for men but couldn't get into that. That kinda thing killed careers."

"It's a first time for everything, eh?" Kyle mentioned and readjusted his top hat on his head.

Brushing the coarse gray hairs along his jawline with a finger, Lenard's eyes stayed on Cloud's face. They didn't waver like they usually did. "I think you would look incredible in a dress," Lenard claimed, "You have the frame for it. And your complexion… You're like the perfect blank canvas to work with, kid. I knew that the moment you stepped into my shop."

Taking another drink, Cloud emptied out the bottle this time. He stared at it and wished for more to magically appear. When that didn't happen, he met Lenard's gaze again. Cloud's brow set low and even. His mouth twitched before he finally spat, "I think I'm drunk enough. You better hurry up and pick me out a dress before I sober up and come back to my senses…"

Lenard's mouth stretched out. His hazel-green eyes intensified. He turned and headed to the other side of the store. A man on a mission, he nearly fell on account of the alcohol and excitement. Lenard rebounded fast though and stalked the main floor of his shop for potential dresses.

By now, Cloud's platform shoes irritated his feet. They felt heavy and clunky, making the sides of his feet burn and itch. As he leaned forward to get them off, Kyle joined him on the ground. He set the empty bottle aside and assisted in removing the other shoe for him.

"I'm surprised you agreed to this," the unruly boy admitted, "You that desperate for Gil? Or did you really want to win this bet against me?"

Cloud shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Maybe both? Far be it for me to refuse a challenge."

"Right." Kyle didn't sound convinced. "You know what I think?"

"Not really."

"I think you're doing this for Lenard." Kyle placed both shoes to the side and sat next to Cloud. His features appeared soft but his eyes penetrated the other boy. "In all the times I've talked with Lenard, I've never heard or seen him as excited as today. I think you realized how broken up he is and want to spark some life back into him. That's why you're doing this. For _his_ sake."

Cloud's eyes fell to an empty spot between his bare feet. He snorted. "I haven't done anything. I'm just being drunk and stupid right now."

Kyle smiled. "Uh-huh… So that business back at the Pharmacy meant nothing too?"

"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?"

"That brat…" Kyle reiterated for him, "No one would've missed her when she ran off, except for her mother. I know _I_ wouldn't have. But you raced after her anyway. You got her back."

"Is there a point to any of this?"

Kyle reached a hand out. He cupped Cloud's chin and raised his face so that they could see eye-to-eye again. "My point is you have a pure soul, Cloud. Underneath that grime, shit, and attitude, you have a beautiful heart. Maybe that's the aura Lenard is talking about. Maybe that's why… you draw me in so much, far more than anyone else I've come across."

Cloud stiffened under his touch.

"I'm tainted and impure," confessed the other boy. His smile barely formed on his lips. "I want to bask in your light. I suspect others want the same from you…"

"I… I don't know what you're talking about." Cloud pushed the hand away from his face. He forced himself to his feet. The numbing sensation on his legs returned and made him wobble. Cloud managed to steady himself though. He looked down at Kyle. "I'm not _pure_. If you knew what kind of thoughts I have every day, you'd realize I'm anything but that."

"I'm not saying you're pure in thoughts or the body. You're a guy with the same wants as any other guy." Kyle stood as well. "I'm just saying you're pure in soul. You could do all sorts of shit – _drink, fuck, smoke_ – but in the end you're still driven by your heart. That makes you pure." Kyle shut his eyes and emphasized, "You… _cherish_ things, Cloud. There's probably not a thing in this world you _don't_ cherish."

For whatever reason, Kyle's words tugged at something deep within Cloud. He frowned. Turning away, he padded barefooted to his dressing room, creating distance. "Tell Lenard I'll be waiting for him here."

Kyle said nothing. He also knew well enough to give him his space and didn't follow.

As soon as Cloud shut the door behind him, he removed the silly raincoat off his shoulders and meshed top. Then he stood still. His teeth bit into his lower lip. Drawing out a bead of blood, Cloud leaned against a wall and thumped the back of his head against it.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_… Cloud knew he shouldn't have overreacted like he did. He instantly regretted the way he spoke to Kyle. His friend had merely expressed his feelings. It wasn't his fault. Yet, the words upset Cloud somehow. Perhaps it was because the other boy thought the world of him; he praised him _too_ much. Cloud didn't feel worthy of any of it. Just like the mother at the Pharmacy, Kyle failed to see the truth. He was as impure and tainted as everyone else – maybe even _more_. The last thing he wanted was to give Kyle any false illusions about himself or disappoint him with the grim reality of it all.

With a sigh, Cloud brushed back his hair with a hand. Then he placed that same hand on the door's handle. He needed to step out and apologize; Kyle deserved that much. The handle gave way as Cloud pushed down on it. He opened his mouth, ready to draw out the necessary words that needed to be said. By this time, though, Lenard had already returned.

The shop owner walked up to his door right as Cloud opened it. The man stopped short of knocking and grinned. His eyes brightened with color as he asked, "Are you ready?"

The apology would have to wait, Cloud realized. His lips withdrew into a thin line as he stared at the articles in Lenard's hands. He saw a gold-and-purple dress with capped sleeves. Its high collar and floral designs were reminiscent of Wutai fashion. While the dress ran down to the ankles and covered enough, it featured a long slit at one side. Cloud wondered if his waist could even squeeze into that damn thing.

"I got you this and a… few more items to complete the look," Lenard said but paused. His eyes drifted down to the items in his hands. "I'll understand if you object."

On deeper inspection, Cloud noticed the man also brought along complimentary pieces. Among them were purple shoes and a pair of purple lace cheeky boyshorts. They matched the long stockings that reached up to the thighs. Cloud blinked several times at the items in Lenard's possession.

"Having the whole set would be ideal," explained Lenard when he noticed the color drain from Cloud's face. "Besides, the leg slit is high. It'll show your boxers. Of course, you _could_ go commando. But, uh, depending on your _size_, just make sure your junk points the _other_ way of the slit. Know what I mean?"

Of all the days Cloud opted for boxers over briefs, it had to be _today_. He shook his head. "Don't… Don't you have any briefs here in the shop I can use?"

"They all sold out," Lenard sheepishly reported. "I got only boxers; same dilemma."

Cloud wondered if that was a lie to get him to wear all this shit. With a frown, he grabbed what looked to be a lacey waistband with suspenders. "And what the fuck is _this?_"

"Er… that's a garter belt. It keeps the stockings from falling." With a grin, Lenard reminded the teenager, "Kyle _did_ say to go all the fuck out. Right?"

_Smart-ass_, Cloud wanted to say back but kept that to himself. Studying the dress again, he considered searching for another. All of the ones he had encountered during his initial walkthrough of the store contained less material though. Some featured straps he couldn't understand, let alone, _wear_. Lenard clearly chose the most conservative and easiest dress of the bunch for him. Glancing at the lingerie next, Cloud obviously had second thoughts about those as well. He wanted to reject it all and take his chances with his boxers, no matter how stupid he'd look with them. Yet, he recalled Kyle's love for lace…

Cloud knew Kyle more than Kyle knew Kyle. Even if he looked terrible in the dress, the street rat would flip his shit solely for the underwear. As awkward as that made Cloud feel, it seemed like the perfect way to make amends. He'd suck up whatever integrity he had left and do this for Kyle. Good thing he was high and drunk. Cloud suspected his line of _rational_ thinking would've been different otherwise.

Without a word, Cloud grabbed his chosen attire. A peek around Lenard's shoulders revealed Kyle waiting at the couches again. He held a fresh bottle of Diamond Dust in his hands, something Lenard had likely brought back on his return. Cloud felt determined to see this through and closed his door.

Minutes passed. The music overhead switched to another theme. It now played cheery tunes that reminded Cloud of nursery rhymes and food commercials. Lenard's eclectic taste in music was _weird_.

While a girl sang about cloudy days and airships, Cloud cursed, spat, and struggled to get into his clothes. The boyshorts he just slipped on didn't cover his whole ass, leaving the lower half of his cheeks exposed. They also gave Cloud the impression he had a wedgie. It prompted him to pull down on his underwear several times. Muttering a curse word, he maneuvered his prick to one side so that it didn't peak its head out from below or above.

As Cloud worked his way around to the other items, it didn't take him too long to call out to Lenard for assistance. When Lenard finally arrived in his dressing room, Cloud nearly growled at him.

"My underwear is crammed right up into my ass hole. I honestly don't understand why anyone would buy underwear like this. _Also…_" Cloud held up the garter belt. "I just spent ten minutes trying to figure this shit out and I _still_ have no idea _what_ attaches to _what_."

"Welcome to the complicated world of women," Lenard replied and closed the door behind him.

The fashion guru's history with models likely made the sight of a nearly nude boy seem almost trivial. Lenard kept his hands and eyes on the task and readjusted the straps of the garter belt for Cloud. He bent down to raise the thigh-high stockings higher and evenly.

The teen stood still and kept quiet. Lenard's current actions and close proximity made Cloud more hyper-aware of his presence. That sweet, delicious raspberry scent of the Diamond Dust alcohol emanated from the man's hot breath. It became intoxicating to breathe in. Lenard's touches likewise burned Cloud's skin. The man's rough and warm fingers slid along his thighs while he attached the garter's clasps to the hem of the stockings. Crikes, this man was twice his age, yet…

"That feel good?" Lenard interrupted his thoughts.

"Um. Y-yeah." The boy's cheeks grew warm from his actions and choice of words. "Thanks…"

In that moment, Cloud felt exposed. He stood wearing only the purple lingerie. His pinkish nipples perked in reaction to the lack of cover and tension in the air. Lenard faced him. Observing the teen's lithe shape, his hazel eyes paused at the slight bulge that pushed against the lacey underwear. Cloud exhaled when their eyes met. He expected the man to make a move, feeling surprised that he _wanted_ him to. Instead, Lenard turned him around. He stood behind Cloud to assist with the other items.

Moving fast and with efficiency, Lenard helped the Nibel native slip on his dress. It fit snugly against his slender frame. Lenard's hand slid the back zipper up. Before securing it all the way to the top, though, he bent down to plant a kiss on the boy's bare neck. Cloud stiffened at first. Then he breathed out slowly. That small amount of physical contact tingled across his entire body. He sighed, feeling his laced panties tighten even more around him.

"Naughty old man…" Cloud whispered, repeating Kyle's earlier words.

Behind him, Lenard laughed. He pulled away just enough to move the zipper all the way to the top. Afterward, he stood next to the dressing room's door. "I'll be back. Let me get something real quick."

Cloud didn't know what the _something_ was, only that it took Lenard roughly two minutes to get it. When the shop owner returned he held a large cosmetic bag in his hands. Cloud knew what this meant. His blond brows knitted closer together. Opening his mouth, he was ready to protest.

"Please." Lenard raised a hand to cut him off. "Trust me, kid. I know what I'm doing."

Cloud's teeth tapped together inside his mouth.

"It'll be fast and painless," the man insisted. "I promise."

"Riiight…" The tight, elastic hem of the stockings made Cloud's legs itch. He dug a finger underneath one of the bands to scratch at a spot. Later, he mumbled, "Fine. But you better not make me look like a clown. And you owe me a whole bottle of Diamond Dust after this."

"That's a promise, kid."

Lenard went to work on Cloud. Years of working in the fashion industry showed in his silent demeanor and prompt actions. He no longer looked like a sluggish man who just drank over two bottles of hard liquor and was ready to pass out. On the contrary, he acted as a possessed artist desperate to show his vision to the world. Lenard's fingers flew all over the wild platinum-blond hair, teasing it in all directions with a comb. His movements became steadier and slower at the more meticulous tasks.

Cloud tried not to blink when Lenard worked on his eyes. He spent the most time on them and frequently muttered _beautiful_ over and over again. The liquid eyeliner smoothly followed the shape of Cloud's left lid before coming to a stop. This repeated several more times until Lenard stepped back. He studied the boy's eyes. Stared intently at them. Took a visible swallow. And stared again. After what felt like an eternity of staring, Lenard at last capped the eyeliner. His work was done.

Reactively, Cloud wanted to scratch his left eye. He stopped himself midway in the act. All of this felt alien to the teen. He puckered his lips once and thought they tasted funny. It was the first time he wore lipstick. Even when he dressed up for All Saints' Wake as a kid, he opted for masks than make-up. The coating on Cloud's lips felt smooth and thick. Despite its artificial flavor, it didn't taste too bad.

While Lenard stuffed his combs and cosmetics back into the bag, Cloud contemplated over his appearance. He dreaded stepping outside to look at himself on the three-way mirror. For all he knew he looked like a freak in a dress with clown make-up. The unsavory thought worsened when he envisioned Mr. Mukki in a blond wig with lipstick. Cloud winced and instantly regretted taking part in this.

As if sensing his doubts, Lenard zipped up his bag and approached the teen. They stood face-to-face. A step forward brought the older man even closer. He pressed his lips against Cloud's forehead. When Lenard kissed him again, this time on the cheek, his voice carried directly into Cloud's right ear. "That one thousand Gil is yours. I've never seen anyone as fucking gorgeous as you. Man _or_ woman."

Cloud held his breathe when Lenard suddenly kneeled before him. The man's face hoovered close to his excited prick. It was made more obvious by the dress's thin and shimmery material. Lenard remained on his knees. He grabbed the purple heels on the ground next to him and slipped each one on the boy's feet. Cloud rose three inches higher. Holding onto Lenard's shoulders, he steadied himself.

Lenard didn't move from his spot. He focused on the water blue eyes above him while Cloud adjusted himself to the heels. Once the boy removed his hands from his shoulders, Lenard brushed one of his palms against the firm shape in front of him. The middle aged man followed its path over and over again, kneading it to life. At one point, he nuzzled the side of his face against it.

Cloud reactively shuddered. His hardened skin felt moist at the tip. The meshed material of his panties only agitated it more. When Lenard bit through the fabric with his teeth Cloud let out the air he'd been holding back. The man nibbled Cloud's cock through the fine material of his dress until he pulled away.

"Show time, baby," Lenard announced once he got to his feet, looking as flushed as the boy. He stepped away and opened the door for him.

Lightheaded and hard, Cloud found himself reluctant to step out but did anyway. The material of the stockings felt odd against his legs, at times rubbing at the inner thighs. His panties still rode up his ass and felt even tighter thanks to his fully awake member. Walking out of the dressing room, Cloud tried not to trip on his purple heels, even when his balance already felt off due to his alcohol consumption.

Cloud spotted Kyle still on the couch. The street rat currently took several gulps from his bottle before looking their way. He froze when he locked onto Cloud. Darker blue eyes widened. Kyle nearly dropped the bottle over the coffee table as he rose up from the couch. His mouth parted but nothing came out of it, save for a strange throaty sound.

"Well?" Cloud started. "I'm in a dress. I'm all dolled up. And I'm fucking hard. You now owe me one thousand Gil, asshole."

The other boy didn't respond. Rather, that same silly slacked-mouth expression on his face remained. Of all the times for Kyle to finally shut up it had to be _this_ moment, Cloud thought; amused.

"Say something, idiot," he pressed.

Working his mouth again, Kyle finally formed words. He twirled a finger in the air as he'd done in previous times and softly replied, "Spin, spin, spin. I want you to look at yourself in the mirror."

Cloud didn't want to. He originally intended to show Kyle his stupid dress for a few seconds before promptly taking it off and putting the memory of it behind. His curiosity grew, however, from the warm smile that decorated Kyle's youthful features. He'd never seen him _that_ excited by anything before.

From behind, Lenard wrapped his arms around Cloud's waist. The shop owner pressed their bodies close together. Cloud felt Lenard's hard-on against his lower back. Together, they spun around to face the mirror. The boy didn't react for a long time. He didn't recognize the person reflected back to him.

The wild blond hair looked familiar, but appeared fuller and shaggy. The purple and gold dress fitted nicely along a slim and flat-chested figure. An intense purple color defined the lips while dark, smoky eyeshadow and mascara amplified the blue in the eyes. When Lenard released his arms, Cloud took a step closer to the three-way mirror. He saw the sinful appearance of purple meshed material peek out through the leg slit. Its single suspender contrasted strongly against his ivory freckled skin. If not for the obvious erection sticking out, he could've mistaken this reflection for a woman.

"Not bad, eh?" Lenard spoke directly into Cloud's ear from behind. He wrapped an arm around him again. His hand rubbed the boy's stomach in small circles. To Kyle, he said, "I still got the touch, right?"

"That you do, old man, that you do…" Just as another cheery melody played from the speakers, this time about Moogles and stars, Kyle walked over to them. He momentarily removed his top hat and bowed to Cloud. "They're playing our song, m'lady. Shall we dance?"

Cloud didn't know whether to smile or punch Kyle right now. He settled for rolling his eyes instead and letting the boy place his arms around his shoulders while Lenard slid his to the waist from behind.

In front of the mirrors, the three figures danced. The ceiling's lights washed over them. Swaying and laughing, their bodies moved to the fast-tempo of a jovial song that sang of togetherness, love, and pom-pom dreams. Lenard spun Cloud. Kyle did the same afterward. Cloud concluded his lipstick was resistant to smearing since it didn't rub off when the three of them kissed each other moments after.

Kyle kissed him first – it was a passionate fast one that involved lots of tongue. Cloud turned and kissed Lenard next – it was a slow and deep exchange that left him out of breath. When Kyle and Lenard turned to each other, it was a wet and long embrace. Cloud immediately suspected the two had tangled before.

As the song reached a crescendo of fast notes, the two men lifted Cloud up by his waist. The transformed boy chuckled out loud as they spun him around in circles. One high-heel shoe nearly slipped off. They moved him around again and again. Cloud spread out his arms. Flying, he watched the collage of colors on the ceiling twirl above and tried to touch them with his fingers, too elated to care that he couldn't. Once Kyle and Lenard set him down again, Cloud sucked in air. Curious hands roamed and explored his slender body. They touched him in places that sent him hissing in satisfaction.

"You look divine in that dress," Kyle mentioned, his hand teasing the spot where Cloud's right nipple would be. His tongue stuck out and traced the lower half of the other's mouth with it. Above the whistling sounds of Moogles singing, Kyle expressed, "Purple is a nice color for you, Miss Cloud."

"_Miss Cloud?_" Cloud bit Kyle's lip in retaliation for using such a ridiculous title. Later, he admitted, "Mm, the dress _does_ feel nice. My balls finally got enough room to breathe…"

"Crude. _Very_ crude, Miss Cloud." Kyle swayed their bodies back and forth. In a lower, dangerous tone, he whispered, "Gods, you look completely fuckable in that dress. I want to tear it off you."

This made Lenard laugh. Still behind Cloud, he rubbed his notable bulge against the boy's backside and declared, "You break; you buy."

"Yeah," echoed Cloud. "You mess with my dress, Kyle, and I'll mess with your face."

He lightly slapped Kyle's cheek. The other boy snatched his hand and placed it between his legs. Through the rough material of Kyle's jeans, Cloud felt his hardened member. With a scoff he squeezed it.

"Y'know…" spoke Lenard again. "All of this makes me want to start a new collection."

"Oh?" Kyle looked away from the hand touching his protruding part. "What do you have in mind?"

"Seeing Cloud like this, I'm motivated to explore male beauty…" Lenard slid his hand down to Cloud's exposed leg. He caressed the thigh there and murmured, "Until today, my men's line has been _typical_. Boring. I'm inspired to try something new now. I think you two can help me."

"What do you mean?" Cloud had to ask.

"Would you two be interested in being my models? Help explore this new direction with me? It'd jumpstart my muse and be a great way to get people back into this dead shithole."

"Stop being a dick to your customers then," suggested Kyle with a snicker. "That would be a good start."

"Fuck you." Lenard laughed. His fingernails gently scratched along Cloud's inner thigh. "So how about it, boys? Will you model for me? You both will be compensated for your time and work."

"You gonna photoshoot us wearing lingerie too?" Kyle teased. "Like you did with me during _our private shoots_ back in the days you were still married, naughty old man?"

Lenard flushed with color. "This entire thing is gonna revolve around my more provoking pieces."

"You mean _trashier_ ones," corrected the street rat. "You wanna doll us up with demeaning shit and take photos of us. Don't you, you filthy pervert?" Kyle smiled sweetly. He leaned over Cloud's shoulder to kiss Lenard. Then the boy returned his attention to Cloud. Their hot lips slid over each other back and forth.

"What about you?" Lenard addressed Cloud, fondly squeezing his thigh.

Cloud waited until Kyle pulled his lips away. As the street rat tugged at his earlobe with his teeth, he replied in a coarse voice, "I've never modeled before. Don't know if I'd be any good to you. Also, I got a full-time job already and am trying for Shinra this year. You'll need to work around my schedule."

"That's fine. We'll meet on times you're free. Like I said, you'll get paid. All you need to do is wear my shit and smile for the camera. Easy-peasy shit."

Tightening his grip on Kyle's bulge, a corner of Cloud's mouth drooled while he roughly shifted his lips to the other side. Their non-stop lip motions resulted in slippery, loud kissing. Cloud's response came out breathy and interrupted. "I don't know. Even if I say yes… _Mmm_… I gotta wear _regular_ stuff. I don't wanna… _mmph_… screw up my chances in getting into the Tsviets because of risqué photos…"

"It'll be underground work," reassured Lenard from behind. "Only a few select people will see it. You're hardly recognizable like this anyway. And besides, this would hardly be scandalous enough to kick you off. You'd be surprised by some of the photoshoots the Tsviets have done in the name of _public charity_."

By this time, Lenard's hand slipped further through the dress's slit. Fingers traveled up. Cloud groaned in Kyle's mouth while they roamed underneath his lace panties, soon pulling out a fully actualized cock. Lenard's rough fingers gripped and squeezed it tightly.

The shop owner's actions admittedly surprised Cloud. Not only was this guy once married and had a daughter, but he was old enough to be _his_ father. Lenard apparently had no issues being with boys half his age though. As to whether it had always been this way or the result of a mid-life crisis, Cloud couldn't find it in himself to care, not when the man's large hands worked his shaft good and hard. Lenard spread out the clear juices that already oozed out of it, making him slick at the top. Cloud shuddered.

"So how about it, baby?" Lenard whispered into his ear. "You wanna model for me?"

Head spinning, Cloud had difficulty getting his thoughts in order. The two sets of hands that explored his body consequently divided his attention. Giving and receiving was already a problematic issue for him with a single partner. But with _two_? Cloud's impatient, eager prick already stood ready. He forced himself to focus on Kyle's instead, anything to prolong that blissful liquid-hot release that awaited him.

Clutching onto Kyle, Cloud suddenly got hit with a lightheaded spell. He wasn't sure if it came from his drunken state or the sudden rush of blood. "I think… I'm getting dizzy," he mumbled. "I need to sit…"

Both Kyle and Lenard withdrew and helped him to the couch. Sitting at the edge of it, the Nibel boy took a minute to reorient his senses. Images blurred and remained unfocused but gradually improved as he stayed seated. Cloud noticed Kyle stand in front of him.

"You all right?" the boy asked with concern in his voice.

"Yeah." Cloud softly chuckled when he admitted, "I think I got too excited…"

A quiet scoff came from Lenard's direction. He sat on the couch beside Cloud and brushed his hair with his fingertips. The action felt paternal and filthy at the same time. Meanwhile, Kyle kneeled before him.

"Too bad. I wanted to excite you in _other_ ways." Rubbing the palm of his hands alongside Cloud's thighs, Kyle drew close to the throbbing member between them, indicating what he had in mind. He pulled back though with a smile. "I should take you home though. Let you sober up. We got three potential outfits for you to wear tonight anyway. We'll get them all so you can decide on which one works the best."

That seemed like the reasonable route to take, Cloud mildly thought to himself but remained quiet.

"Don't worry about the costs," Kyle reassured. "It'll come outta that thousand Gil prize you won, heh. In the meantime, let's get our stuff and get you home. Yeah?"

A moment of contemplation passed before Cloud leaned forward. Brushing back the smooth strands of Kyle's hair, his fingers played with the loose curls there. Blue eyes then intensified when those same fingers gripped the back of the boy's head. Swiftly, Cloud pulled Kyle forward. He maintained eye-contact while he drew his face close to his crotch again. The hand let go of the hair. Moving the slit of his dress to the side, Cloud revealed his harsh pink hard-on. The sight of lacey underwear, the garter belt's straps, and stockings only made it look cruder.

"You said so yourself," Cloud spoke slowly, "_The world doesn't like half-ass bums._ So finish it."

Kyle's brows rose in unison. His face relaxed again when he drew out air. He whispered, "You never cease to amaze me, Cloud Strife."

"I have my moments. Now shut up and blow."

Staring at the three-way mirror across, Cloud saw their reflections again. His half-lidded eyes followed Kyle's movements, followed how his thin and pretty body positioned itself good and proper between his spread legs. He observed the boy bend over his lap and lower his head. Moments later, sweet warmth and wetness engulfed Cloud's member. He sighed and shifted his gaze up at the ceiling again, observing the colors of spotlights dance.

The hazards of being drunk weren't lost on him. At any moment, he could pass out, puke, or do something similarly stupid – he really should've waited until he was sober for this. But as tempting as it was to play things safe, he still had his wants. Since this morning, he woke up with one. Cloud _needed_ to feel again. He _needed_ to feel his body rise to that wonderful high he had reached last night.

_Sephiroth_…

Flashes of light came from Cloud's left side. It brought his attention to the oldest man of the three. Lenard took pictures of the teens together with his PHS. His actions instantly pulled Cloud back into his memory of Sephiroth last night; both of them trapped inside each other's worlds while surrounded by spectators. Blue to green. Green to blue. A lovely face with burning words and touches.

The fond memory of Sephiroth stirred Cloud. He lifted his dress's slit further away, offering Lenard a clear shot of his engulfed cock. Kyle's head repeatedly bobbed up and down on it. He slurped up its essence. Lenard snapped more pictures. He got in close for the last shot. A click later and the man leaned toward Cloud. He kissed the teen right above his damped brow. Then their mouths connected.

Slicked tongues swirled and glided against each other. Lenard slid next to the teen on the couch. They remained lip-locked while Cloud received moist pleasure from below. The wet muffled sounds of Kyle's mouth went in synch with the Moogle song that still played above. For Cloud, the lively tune about togetherness and sacred bonds sounded ironic and absurd given their three-way _connection_ right now.

Sometime after Cloud's breathing increased, Kyle picked up speed. His mouth slipped over the rod of flesh faster and faster. That familiar, striking sensation at the pit of Cloud's belly surged and gradually expanded outward. He could feel his cock tingle inside Kyle's mouth. Moments passed before the street rat pulled out his lips with a smack and looked up at Lenard.

His forehead and cheeks glossed with sweat, Kyle panted and offered, "You want a taste of this, old man? Definitely sweeter than that stuff we've been drinking."

Lenard didn't have to answer back. Instead, he positioned himself over his young companion's lap. Cloud lifted his cock upright for him. He watched Lenard open his fat lips wide and take him in. With a soft hiss, the teenager soon felt a different kind of pressure and speed. Whereas Kyle relied on quickness, Lenard took his time and went deep, reaching all the way down to his hilt. The man seemed to savor every inch of stretched-out skin since he only pulled out for air.

Gripping at the couch's seats, Cloud produced a throaty groan this time. The surge from his belly point reached down to his toes. Lenard either had enough meat in his life to know what he was doing or was in the mood for it right now. Either way, it felt fucking _glorious_. Cloud's mascara-covered lashes fluttered. His heels dug into the wooden floor as he stretched out his legs. It wouldn't be long now…

In front of Cloud, Kyle stood at full height. Fingers undid the zipper and button of his jeans. His chunky shaft flopped out. Pointed halfway up, it bounced when he took a step closer and addressed, "I think it's time you learn how to handle one of these."

Cloud breathed out while Lenard resumed his business below. The scent of Kyle's exposed part smelled of heavy musk. Its pinkish head glistened under the store's spotlights. He nodded.

"Take it slow," Kyle advised him. "No need to rush. I can hold out for as long as you need me to."

"I don't doubt it." Cloud stared at his length again. Their current positions somewhat unnerved him; he didn't like anyone towering over him. Still, he set aside the initial reaction and ran his fingers across the warm and sturdy length.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to face-fuck you," reassured the other boy with a slow exhale. On a sing-song note, he added, "…_Unless you want me to?_"

"_Don't_," Cloud immediately rejected with a firm squeeze.

Kyle chuckled.

Leaning closer to the mass of flesh in his grip, Cloud stroked it a few more times. He'd never done this before. The one time he had tried with Kyle they got interrupted by his stupid dog. His heart picked up speed. Experimentally, Cloud's tongue lashed out, tasting the tip smothered with pre-cum. It was bitter and salty. A soft hiss came out of Kyle when he licked again. The steady volume of the boy's sounds encouraged Cloud to explore further. He parted his lips wider.

Kyle was right. It was easy. Cloud had no experience in blowing another guy but the act reminded him of all the countless times he had mindlessly sucked on an ice cream stick. Except this time the surface felt bumpy. It was also warm – _very_ warm. His lips followed along its path, growing more and more accustomed to its subtle texture and peculiar flavor.

"Less teeth…" instructed Kyle, wincing. "Use the roof of your mouth and tongue to hold it in place…"

Recalling the painful times girls did this to _him_, Cloud took up his suggestion. He adjusted accordingly.

It didn't take the teenager long to get a rhythm going. That awkward oral fixation Cloud had as a kid resurged itself. He moved his head more freely. Rolled his head side-to-side. Pushed in and out. Sucking in as much as he could, Cloud tried to take it in deeper but a gag reflex prompted him to withdraw.

"Careful," cautioned Kyle and gently patted the back of his head. "Try again…"

Wiping fresh tears from his eyes, Cloud exhaled loudly. It was hard to focus when Lenard kept stuffing his mouth with his own meat stick. A deep breath later, though, and Cloud proceeded one more time.

"That's it…" Kyle muttered from above. "That's it… You're doing _fabulous_, Miss Cloud…"

Again. That stupid title. _Miss Cloud_. The Nibel native hummed, still annoyed by his newly assigned nickname. He made no effort to scold the other boy though – perhaps later he would. Supplying his partner with the hot wetness of his mouth, Cloud focused on the low grunts he heard from above. They motivated him to increase his speed. Kyle's fingers soon clutched onto his hair, tighter and tighter.

Idly, the Nibelheim teen thought about his Host again. The mental image of Sephiroth's beautiful body still haunted the back of his mind like a persistent apparition. Shutting his eyes tightly, Cloud came to regard his first ever blowjob as practice. The bolder aspect of himself entertained the idea he would someday put this newly acquired skill to good use on the angelic creature. He would make Sephiroth wither under his touch. He would _stand_ above the rest of his other stupid clients. Feeling more ambitious and determined, Cloud swallowed down as much of Kyle as he could.

"Go on…" encouraged Kyle from above, watching Cloud inch down his length. "You can do it…"

More tears streaked down Cloud's face. Taking in the stiff flesh proved challenging. Kyle wasn't large but the throat automatically wanted to push out the mass of meat being forced inside. Cloud suppressed the urge to cough, knowing it would trigger another gag reflex.

"Relax it," Kyle instructed down to him, "Relax your throat. You're almost there, baby. That's it…"

Relaxing his throat long enough, Cloud felt Kyle's tip finally brush beyond the edge of his mouth, reaching deeper down the canal. He quickly retracted when it became too much for him.

"That was a _lot_ better," Kyle commended him with a low-sounding laugh; his face sweaty and redder.

"I learn fast." A half-laugh, half-cough came out of Cloud, feeling both amazed and embarrassed by his progress so far. He was close, _very_ close.

Wiping away the excessive amount of drool from his lips, Cloud took a long moment to breathe again. He looked down at Lenard. The man's face rested on his lap. He retained a consistent rhythm; fat mouth shaped into a well-constricted 'o' form. Lenard repeatedly pushed the cock all the way in and out. Each time he reached its tip he licked and wagged his tongue at it like a deprived canine.

The sight of this man sucking him off – this dirty, old man with ash-gray hair and lined features – both repulsed and allured Cloud. Men Lenard's age weren't supposed to fool around with budding boys like him. Yet, there he was, slurping loudly and sucking him off like a hungry babe being nursed. Cloud breathed harder. His fingers scraped across Lenard's thick hair. He clutched onto it and thrust once into the mouth. The act caused the older man to gag and gurgle. Lenard slowly looked up at Cloud.

Once the older man collected himself again, he whispered, "Go on, boy… Keep going. I can take it…"

Lenard kept his mouth opened. Face flushed, Cloud pushed the man's head down on his shaft with both hands. He shot his hips upward. The wooden frame of the couch rocked with each pelvic motion Cloud committed. His glittery purple lips went slack. He felt himself reach closer to his high; felt his body tense-up in anticipation for it. He continued to pump into the heated moist mouth. Again and again. Lenard gurgled many more times but didn't pull away.

It took the sound of a familiar ringtone to briefly break them away from their intimate connection. Cloud paused when he realized it came from his PHS.

Abandoned along with his previous clothes in the dressing room, it rang loudly. At first, Cloud resumed his business. He wanted to come hard into Lenard's mouth. _Right. Now._ However, the persistent ringing from his phone broke his concentration. It didn't stop. Even when it went to voice message, it began its terrible song again. Fuck. It was likely one of his coworkers pestering him over his day off. He instantly regretted not turning off his electronic device earlier.

Still sheathed by Lenard's mouth, Cloud continued his upward thrusts. He panted and glanced over at Kyle. "Hey. Do me a favor. Turn that shit off for me…"

With a nod, Kyle left to retrieve the phone from his dressing room. He walked back to the couches with the PHS in his hands shortly after. A finger moved to the kill switch. However, Kyle paused when he checked the phone's caller ID screen. His figure stood still at first. Then his blue eyes brightened. Covering his mouth, the pretty boy apparently found something funny. He tried to suppress his laughter.

"What?" Cloud demanded. The non-stop ringing and silly expression on Kyle's face made him irritated. He had trouble keeping his focus. When his fuck-buddy made no effort to turn off the phone, he spat, "_Well?_ Who the hell is it?"

Hearing the impatience in his voice, Kyle turned. He reported in three brief words: "It's your mom."

That answer immediately caused Cloud to stop. His shoulders turned rigid. On his lap, Lenard lifted his glossed face and rubbed his jaw. He muttered a _damn_.

"You want me to answer it?" Kyle approached Cloud. The phone in his hand still flashed; still rung. Even after the PHS went to voice message _again_ it restarted its tune. "I can tell her you're busy."

Cloud felt a great swelling develop at the pit of his stomach. He knew that phone would keep ringing. Neither he nor Lenard moved from their respective spots though. The shop owner seemed as peeved as he was and rested his head back on his lap. Lenard began lapping up the sticky juices of his cock.

"Maybe let it go to voice message again?" Kyle suggested later, sensing Cloud's reluctance.

"I can't." Cloud sighed. "I told you before: she likely thinks I'm dead in an alleyway somewhere. I haven't called her back since yesterday. Knowing her, she's hunting down a detective to recover my body."

"I think you're overreacting. But hey, if it gives you peace of mind, then you should answer it."

Cloud exhaled sharply, partly from Lenard's wonderful mouth and partly from his growing frustration at the whole damn thing. Granted, picking up the phone was a simple solution to a simple problem. A conversation with Mom was long overdue. Their Saturday meet-ups were a tradition he'd maintained since he had arrived in Midgar years ago. Until now, he had never missed one. Cloud wasn't in the mood to talk though. He had _other things_ he wanted to do. Things his mother would definitely not approve of.

"Go talk to your mother," Lenard murmured in between his swallowing. He looked up at Cloud with only his eyes. Lips smacked wetly over one ball before he added, "Just act _discreet_. Understand, baby?"

Gently stroking Lenard's hair, Cloud didn't protest. He let Lenard resume sucking him off while grabbing the phone from Kyle. Yes. He would act discreet. Perhaps he'd manage to cut the conversation short so he could go back to having his fun with Lenard and Kyle. At least, that was the intended plan.

Clearing his throat, Cloud clicked on the button and finally answered it. "Hey, Mom…"

"_Don't 'hey, Mom' me_,_ boy,_" Mrs. Strife instantly barked. "_I waited all day for you to come online yesterday._ _All day. Where were you? What happened?_"

"I had a long shift," Cloud lied. Already, the guilt hit him.

"_I thought you only had class yesterday._"

"Someone… called in sick at the last-minute. I had to cover their shift." A reasonable fib, Cloud thought. It was way better than admitting he got plastered and hooked up with a gorgeous green-eyed Host.

_"You should've messaged me, Cloud. I got worried. You've never missed our facetime chats before. I thought you were lying dead somewhere in an alleyway. I was about to hire a detective to find you._"

Cloud gave Kyle an 'I-told-you-so' look. Then he addressed his mother again. "Sorry. I got busy."

"_Too busy to even text me back?_" The sound of Mrs. Strife's growl lingered from the other line. "_Are you busy now? Can we facetime? I want to see my boy._"

"Um…" Cloud glanced down at the old man licking him clean between his legs as well as Kyle's plump cock next to his face. "I'm, uh, kinda busy and don't have my laptop on me." His skin burning up, he hoped his emphasis on _busy_ would push his mother to call at another time.

"_Well, can we just talk for a few minutes then?_"

Cloud frowned. He knew this question was a dangerous one. A _few minutes_ usually translated to a _few hours_. However, if he answered _no_ to her question then his mother would waste a few hours anyway complaining about his lack of time spent with her. Cloud had to choose his next words carefully. Of course, it was difficult thinking up words when Lenard tended to his cock so well. The shop owner slipped it down his whole throat and looked up at him. _Daring_ him to say something about it.

Cloud hissed and breathed out. "I'm, uh, in the middle of my lunch break, Mom… I gotta go soon."

"_That's fine. Hearing my baby's voice is all I need."_ A pause. "_Hey, are you okay? You're breathing pretty heavy right now._"

"I'm, uh, just feeling under the weather." Cloud closed his eyes and felt the steady rhythm of Lenard's mouth again. _Gods_…

"_There's something I need to tell you,_" began his mother again, "_It's why I'm calling. But first, let me officially report that my garden is_ ruined_. The Lockhart's damn cat killed it, including my potatoes._"

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Cloud muttered off hand. He sensed something off when his mother quickly skipped over the reason why she called, but ignored it when Lenard bit his tip. He opened his eyes again.

The nasty old man seemed to relish in the fact Cloud was on the phone with his mother. His actions became more vulgar and pronounced. Lenard made sure the teen watched him. He slapped the cock repeatedly against his grizzly cheek before drawing it in again. Cloud couldn't find it in himself to make the man stop. He didn't want him to. Not when his full lips and large hands sent his entire body tingling all over. The consumed blissful chemicals in Cloud's veins only heightened the sensations.

Fuck. It all felt so _good_.

_"It took me a whole season to grow those potatoes_," griped his mother in his ear, returning Cloud's elated Self back to the planet. "A_nd now they're ruined. I tried talking to Mr. Lockhart about his cat, but he's never around_._ As for Tifa… well…_"

Cloud already regretted picking up the call. He didn't want to hear any more of this. Even the mention of Tifa made him sigh in discomfort. While his mother rambled on from the other line, Cloud focused his attention on something more pleasant. His eyes locked onto his close friend.

Unlike Lenard, Kyle remained quiet and kept his hands to himself, mindful of the caller. The street rat actually tried to be on his best behavior. It was a first for him and almost made the other teen laugh. Licking his purple-painted lips, Cloud stared at the boy's neglected but still-very-erect member.

"_By the way, how's that promotion at Chocobo Chow going along?_" Mrs. Strife later asked. She must've sensed her son's lack of interest because she now switched to another subject._ "Did you accept it?_"

"I'm still thinking it over…" Cloud touched Kyle's column of meat. His fingers wrapped around its stem before stroking it up and down. Planting a kiss on its head, he mentioned to his mother shortly after, "Mr. Mukki is giving me awhile to decide on it…"

Above, Kyle reached out and took Cloud's face with both hands. Their eyes stayed on each other. Slowly, Kyle brought his cock to the other's lips. Cloud relaxed his throat for him. This allowed the boy to push in. They maintained eye contact while it sunk in deeper. And deeper. It finally went all the way in.

"_Honestly, I'd rather you take that job_," Mrs. Strife expressed somewhere in the background. "_It'll be less dangerous and you'll actually get healthcare benefits. I know you got your heart set on the Tsviets but, baby, every day I hear more boys your age die in the name of Shinra and the Tsviets._"

His entire mouth stuffed, Cloud could only reply with, "Mm-hm..."

"_I'll sleep better if you take that assistant manager position job instead. Of course, I'll sleep even better if you came back home. That city is full of bad things and people._"

"Mm-hm…"

Kyle pulled out to let Cloud breathe. Once the air traveled into his lungs again, they repeated the process. The more times Cloud deep-throated Kyle the more accustomed he felt toward the act. The sensation of being completely filled made him curious about other intimate interactions.

_"Be careful,_" resumed his mother. "_I'm hearing bad rumors there._ _Something about dead bodies?"_

"Mm-hm…"

"_You're taking care of yourself out there, right, Cloud? Take your knife with you at all times._"

"Mmmmmm-hmmm…"

Cloud practically moaned that last response. By now, Lenard's mouth rapidly shot up and down between his legs. The former esteemed designer moved in the same tempo of the new upbeat tune that played across his shop. This time it was the ever popular Chocobo theme.

"_Are you okay_?" Mrs. Strife asked above the music. "_You sound off today…_"

Static from the speakers tainted the familiar, loveable soundtrack. Neither man bothered to notice or care. The three took comfort among themselves, each trying to reach his own climax. Their faces appeared flushed and shiny from their labored efforts. Lenard had his free hand over his own hard-on, furiously yanking at himself, while sucking down Cloud's. Kyle's cock twitched inside Cloud's mouth, signaling his climax soon. Tossing his head back, he groaned when Cloud bobbed his head as fast as the Chocobo theme as well. At the corner of his eyes, Cloud saw their three-way act unfold on the mirrors.

It was fucking beautiful.

"_You're staying away from those nasty city women, right?_" his mother continued later. Her impatience became evident when she wondered aloud, "_Cloud? You still there…? Are you even listening to me?_"

Having gone without a response for too long, Cloud pulled out. He made sure to move the phone away to prevent his gagging sounds from being heard. Panting hard, his free hand stroked Kyle's shaft. Cloud waited until his breathing settled. With a half-formed smile, he brought the phone close to his face again and replied, "I don't think you need to worry about the women, Mom. I'm in good company…"

Below, Lenard loudly spat on Cloud's member to create more slickness. As the saliva dripped down, his hand formed a tight fist around him. He pumped the stem fast and hard.

"Mmm, _very_ good company…" Cloud repeated and gritted his teeth.

A pause from the other line. "_Cloud? Are you sure you're okay…?_"

His mother's question reminded him to be more discrete. She was getting suspicious. If Mrs. Strife ever learned her sweet, precious boy was currently dressed as a woman, eating cock, and getting sucked off by a dirty man twice his age, she'd die of a heart attack – then return to life to beat him with a slipper.

"Mm. I'm fine…" Cloud tried to reassure her. "I kinda took something to get rid of a headache though, so I'm feeling… all over the place." He leaned forward again and ran his tongue along Kyle's length. "I totally feel better now though…"

"_Headache? You're sick, aren't you? No wonder you're hardly talking. No wonder I keep hearing you moan like that. At first I thought…_" Hurrying her next words, she sounded concerned now. _"Oh, honey. I feel terrible for not noticing this sooner. My baby is sick!_"

"It's nothing," Cloud dismissed. "Don't worry about it. Seriously."

"_But I _do_ have to worry! You're my baby. My baby is sick and I'm too far away to help!_"

For the next ten minutes Mrs. Strife went over the usual spill about drinking lots of water and resting more. No more staying up late. No more working himself to death. Mrs. Strife soon disclosed in-depth a recipe he should try to treat his headaches and any possible nausea – something that involved Bandersnatch urine. The guilt Cloud had initially felt from his lie turned to annoyance, especially when his shaft swelled with heat, blood, and cum. Kyle, himself, looked damn good and ready for him again.

While his mother rambled on, Cloud went in for another deep swallow. He relaxed his throat and slid Kyle's length back in him. A moan echoed back to Cloud. Despite the boy's earlier words, Kyle started thrusting into his mouth. He pushed in and out of it again and again. At some point, his friend went a little too fast and too deep. It triggered a gag reflex. Cloud swiftly pulled back and violently coughed.

Immediately, his mother chimed in. "_Oh, honey, are you okay? That cough sounds terrible!_"

"Y-yeah… Sorry." Cloud coughed a few times before saying, "I'm eating right now and almost choked…"

His comment was meant to stop his mother from getting more worried over a fabricated illness. If she thought he was choking on food and not dying from a deadly disease then she'd move on. The irony in Cloud's words was not lost on his friend though. Kyle nearly laughed out loud but put a hand over his mouth. The boy's stiff prick wobbled as he shook uncontrollably and silently chuckled to himself.

Cloud suppressed a growl. He would've reprimanded Kyle if not for the growing tension that suddenly overwhelmed the lower half of his body. At last, his hot shaft sputtered inside Lenard's mouth. Its veins bulged out. Cloud winced as he trembled. He bit into his lower lip so that his mother wouldn't hear him come hard. Thick wads of white lines continued to shoot out of his rod.

On his lap, Lenard rested his face on one side. He kept his mouth wide open. Allowing the boy to watch him collect it all, the dirty man wagged his tongue out to encourage more deposits.

"…_Fuuuck yeah_…" whispered Cloud and tried to squeeze out whatever was left in him.

"_Did you say something, honey?_" his mother asked on the other line.

Realizing he was still on call, Cloud exhaled sharply. "N-nothing. I didn't say anything…"

He looked down at the man on his lap. Mouth filled with a glossy white substance, Lenard closed his mouth and visibly swallowed. He looked close to release as well. His large hand continued working himself. Cloud leaned forward to help him. Their hands clasped together. They fisted over an aged cock that was thin but very long. Cloud liked the fit of it in his palm. In a matter of seconds, he saw Lenard violently quiver and roll back his dimmed eyes. White leaked through their intertwined fingers.

"Oh baby…" was all the man could say, repeating it over and over again. Whether to himself or to Cloud, the teenager did not know.

Lenard looked up at him. They smiled at each other and shared a small, tender kiss. Cloud moved away when he heard his mother on the phone again. He left Lenard to relax across his lap and sat upright again. Cloud faced Kyle next while his mother addressed him.

"_Listen, I'm going to let you go_," she said. "_You sound really under the weather. But before I go, I wanted to mention something to you… It's not a big deal but…_"

The high-pitched tone in his mother's voice indicated she was holding something back. Lies in the Strife household were uncommon. Thus, neither could effectively hold a lie without giving some big hint away. For Cloud, it was his lack of eye contact that gave away his deception –he suspected that was the reason why his mother preferred live cam-chats. For Mrs. Strife, though, it was her higher-than-usual tone.

"_Um, one of my friends will be visiting Midgar."_

Mrs. Strife's tone sounded very high. Normally, Cloud would've pressed his mother more about this. It definitely sounded like she was trying to sugarcoat something. That already spelled bad news. At this moment, however, Cloud was too occupied with Kyle to bother inquring about the details.

They resumed where they had last left off. This time, Cloud didn't gag. He kept his throat relaxed, even when Kyle's pelvic motions became more aggressive. Cloud's jaw began to ache but didn't move away. Having his friend push himself into his throat, shutting off the air supply, gave him a lightheaded sensation similar to last night's encounter. It was as close as he could get to it. Cloud held his breath. Focusing on the Chocobo melody theme that still played, he tried not to pull out for air too quickly.

"_I told my friend not to visit that horrible city_," his mother's voice came through the receiver._ "But she insists on going. She also offered to deliver your birthday present on my behalf._"

More and more, this conversation sounded suspicious. Cloud didn't like where it was going. He debated on talking more about this _friend_ and what his mother really wanted from him. Kyle began to tremble though. His breathing became more erratic. Pounding into Cloud's mouth, a slacked expression drew on the boy's face. Cloud opened his eyes. He watched Kyle unravel himself.

"_So… you might get a visit from her_," Mrs. Strife mentioned over the phone. "_She didn't tell me when she planned to make the trip. But be a dear and offer her a place to stay during her visit. Okay?_"

Just as Cloud finally needed air, Kyle pulled out. An explosion of white trailed after him. Cloud made sure to move the phone away from himself again. He didn't want his mother hearing him gasp for air. Nor did he want her to hear Kyle groan loudly as he shot the last wad of cum over his dolled-up face.

Both of them tried to breathe. Cloud coughed several times. Only after the air circulated back into this throat again did he lean toward Kyle's tip. His tongue wagged at the minuscule opening of his urethra. Cloud let the tangy taste of semen taint his tongue. Like Lenard before him, he swallowed it down.

When Cloud finally put the phone to his ear again, he overheard his mother frantically repeat: "_Cloud? Cloud…? Are you there? Answer me._"

"Sorry, I had to put the phone down to talk to someone…" Cloud replied at last.

Breathing slower, the teen massaged his jaw; it felt raw. Cloud watched Kyle collapse on the spot next to him on the couch. Just as he did, Lenard rose up from his dormant position. The older man licked off the milky substance on Cloud's face with his tongue. He cleaned it all. His chin. His cheek. His lips. Not wanting to raise any suspicion over what just happened, Cloud focused on his mother again.

"Um, yeah, your friend can crash at my place," he offered, "It's not much, but I'll make room for her."

His strategy of diverting her attention elsewhere seemed to have worked. Rather than inquire more about his current condition – _and the strange noise_ – his mother sounded pleased over the phone. "_Thanks, Cloud. I appreciate it. I'm sure you two will get along great. My friend thinks very highly of you._"

"Yeah…" Cloud almost chuckled when Lenard nibbled at a spot on his neck. "Listen, Mom, I gotta go. Break time is over."

"_Okay, dear. Will we facetime this Saturday?_"

"I'll try. I got a lot on my plate though…" Cloud refused to tell her about tonight's date. Or his newly acquainted _friend_. After he briefly kissed Lenard back, he mentioned, "I kinda found a new side-job. Nothing too big but it'll help with the bills. I'll tell you about it some other time."

"_Good. Now you'll have enough Gil to actually visit your mother. Don't overwork yourself, though. Okay? I love you. Call me if you need anything._"

"Will do. Thanks, Mom. Lots of love."

As soon as Cloud hung up, he tossed the PHS on an adjacent couch and slumped back. Thank the Gods: it was over. He wasn't sure if it was relief or the aftermath of his orgasm that left him in a calm and sleepy condition right now. Whatever it was, he stretched out his spine and halfway closed his eyes.

"So I take it you'll model for me, eh?" Lenard leaned beside him. He started rubbing the boy's shoulders.

"If it's as fun as what we're having now and I actually get paid for it, then _hell yeah_." Cloud hummed softly to himself, enjoying the massage.

"_My, my, my…_ I've unleashed a terrible beast in you," Kyle said at the opposite direction. "I knew there was a sex-fiend hiding behind that rural-boy get-up."

"I'm not a sex-fiend." Cloud fully opened his eyes with a frown. His words sounded slightly slurred when he elaborated, "I'm more like a man open to experiences."

Kyle laughed. So did Lenard. Cloud smiled along with them. The aftermath of their intense activities left them all in a lethargic state. The seventeen-year-old teen wanted to rest on the couch for a few minutes but paused when he heard the sound of a PHS go off again. He growled, thinking it was his mother. The tune sounded different though. He saw Kyle retrieve his phone from a back pocket and flip it open. An unpleasant look crossed the boy's face as he checked the caller ID. Kyle muttered a curse word.

Cloud snorted aloud. "Don't tell me: it's _your_ mother."

"Pft. Close enough." Rising off from the couch, the frown on Kyle's face didn't disappear when he reported, "It's the Don." He tucked himself in and zipped up his pants. "Damn. I didn't pay attention to the time. His afternoon meeting is in fifteen minutes. I gotta split and play bodyguard for him."

"Mm, and here I was hoping you'd _enlighten_ me more…"

Kyle blinked once. "Oh? You just took two guys at the same time and you're up for _more?_"

The slit of his dress still placed aside, Cloud's spent cock remained visible. He widened his legs more, revealing more of his stockings, lacey underwear, and garter belt. Blond hair covered his right eye as he shifted his head to one side. His purple lips stretched into a small smile. "What do _you_ think?"

"What do I think?" Kyle bent down and caressed his cheek. "I think I need to get you drunk more since you apparently get _veeery_ horny." His eyes drifted between Cloud's legs. "Gods, I can take you now…"

"Then do it. Teach me how to take it in." Cloud rubbed a specific spot on himself. "I'm a fast learner."

"You _are_." Kyle stepped back and stood straight. "How about you join me instead?"

"Join you?"

Kyle readjusted his clothing. "It's too late to drop you at your place. And you clearly need to sober up."

"I don't need to sober up," Cloud denied and idly touched his flimsy prick. "I feel peachy…"

"Sure you do, you horny corndog." Kyle scoffed. "Come with me. I'm sure that meeting won't take more than ten minutes – _tops_. The Don has the mental capacity of a kid; it's rare for anyone to hold his undivided attention for longer than that. You can wait at one of the manor's rooms. Then I'll fetch you."

"Hey, Cloud can stay here with me…" Lenard suggested. He stopped rubbing the boy's shoulders and placed an arm around him. To Cloud, he said, "Sober up here. Hell, if you want someone to teach you how to take it in, _I_ can."

Kyle waved the older man's hands away. "_Shoo-shoo, you beast._ Cloud hasn't gone all the way; at least, not like that. I don't want his first-time experience being drunk and with a naughty man like you."

"Yeah, you're supposed to be working anyway," agreed Cloud and removed his arm. "Snap to it, old man." Slipping his member back inside his panties, he readjusted his dress to cover himself and got off the couch. Unsteadied as he was, Kyle kept him on his feet.

A hearty chuckle came out of Lenard's mouth. "Gods, you boys are going to be the end of me."

"You act like that's a bad thing." Kyle smirked back, turning away afterward to retrieve Cloud's clothes in his dressing room.

The other boy exchanged phone numbers with the shop owner. Cloud actually looked forward to future meet-ups regarding the photoshoots. Getting paid to wear clothes and smile for the camera sounded like an easy side-job. Making out with Lenard was also fun. Later, all three of them headed to the counter to finalize their purchases. No surprise, Lenard gave Cloud the dress for free. The teen didn't know how to feel about that, especially when a sudden realization hit him as Kyle grabbed their bags.

"Wait…" Cloud wobbled and stepped away from the counter. He glanced down at himself. "I need to change back to my clothes. I forgot to take this damn thing off. Help me with the zipper…"

"You're better off with that on," Kyle advised. He had a strange, serious look on his face. It was rare for him to be serious about anything. Soon, he explained, "Few people are allowed in the Don's manor: his crew, his guests, and women. Anyone not in those categories gets a bullet to the head."

Cloud leveled his brows. As drunk and high as he was, he had a bad feeling about this. That sentiment seemed shared by Lenard. From behind the counter, the older man crossed his arms.

Kyle idly swayed the bags in his hands back and forth. "I'm gonna say you're my girl, Cloud. Normally, the Don likes to get his hands on the new merchandise, but he will be too busy with his guests to even notice ya. So play it cool and do as I tell ya when we get there. Okay?"

Cloud weighed in his options but a mild headache developed. He'd never met the Don before. In all the years Kyle worked under the notorious man, he'd refused to bring him to the manor. Something about this spelled trouble. Cloud couldn't bring himself to question Kyle, though, not when all he wanted was a nice warm spot to rest his head on. A shower would be nice too, considering their actions moments ago. While Lenard had licked off all the evidence from his face and cock, he was covered in dried spit.

Beside Cloud, Lenard shook his head. "Can't say taking him to the Don's place is the better option here."

"Can't say I trust you to keep your hands to yourself while I'm gone, old man," rebutted Kyle.

"Ouch. No faith for the wicked, huh? I'm offended." Lenard laughed softly. He waved only once at them while Kyle hooked his arm around Cloud's and led him out of his shop.

* * *

Once outside the Boutique, Kyle remained attached to Cloud's arm. He practically dragged the boy to their destination. They maneuvered through the crowd of Wall Market. Steam evaporated in the air from all directions. Too drunk, high, and tired, the Nibel youth ignored the long stares from many men they passed by. Cloud nearly forgot about the dress he wore until his heels dug deep into a soil, prompting him to stumble forward from time to time. It was difficult to walk in these stupid shoes. When guys whistled at him, he replied in kind with a middle finger and a low manly growl. It earned him many confused looks in return.

Kyle retained his silence throughout it all, meanwhile. The boy pushed them through the clutter of people. Within minutes, they arrived at a massive structure with parted steel doors and tall pillars. Red vertical banners hung down and flapped. Beyond this entrance appeared a cluster of kiosks. Various vendors busied themselves, selling their wares and food. Cloud's stomach growled. Looming above it all was a two-storied mansion.

Don Corneo's place had a massive roof with wooden shingles and tall pillars. Concrete walls made it appear impenetrable. Lit brightly and decorated by colorful Wutai symbols, the giant structure took a lot of its inspiration from ancient temples. Cloud scoffed to himself the more he looked at it. While he never met the man, he'd heard his share of stories concerning Don Corneo's inflated ego. No doubt, the Don considered himself on the same level as a deity; a Godlike man that needed to be worshipped.

"Huh. Looks like the Don's guests have already arrived," Kyle quietly noted.

Cloud followed his gaze.

Passing through the sea of vendors, a red carriage steered by a Chocobo stopped in front of the large entry doors of the mansion. Two of the Don's men already stood guard there. They approached the carriage, armed with rifles. At the carriage, a well-dressed fellow with a long coattail dismounted. He opened a rear door for his passengers.

Cloud froze on his spot when several figures piled out of the Chocobo carriage one-by-one. In his drunken stupor, the teenager had to blink twice, nearly doubting the scene that played out before him. Yet, the piercing blue eyes of LOVELESS' Hosts were unmistakable. More so, the faces of the men he saw standing outside the carriage…

Genesis, Angeal, and Zack.

Of them all, the auburn-haired Host wore a face-mask that covered his nose and mouth. Cloud wasn't that surprised. The arrogant beautiful aristocrat likely wasn't a fan of the air down here. His arms appeared crossed and he stood with all of his weight shifted to one leg. Genesis shook his head when he glanced down at his soiled leather boots. Angeal and Zack, on the other hand, kept their faces visible and talked to the guards. While their voices were too far away to hear, Cloud's attention swiftly swayed back to the carriage driver again.

By now, the driver helped the last passenger out. Cloud's stomach churned at the sight of a very tall and slender figure draped in all black. Completely concealed by a black bridal veil that dragged to the ground, the Host stepped down and reached ground level. Cloud should've expected _him _to be here too.

"The Black-Veiled Man…" Kyle whispered beside him. His eyes sparked with color as they widened. "Holy shit, he's _actually_ here…"

The two teens stood a good distance away from the Hosts. Nonetheless, Cloud hid himself from direct line-of-sight, moving behind a currently closed kiosk. He dreaded accompanying Kyle on this trip and wanted to retreat back to the Boutique as fast as he could. His eyes stayed locked on his Host though.

_Sephiroth._


End file.
